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as keenly as for his own-who dipped his pen of consolation in the gashes of his own heart-and who, at length, when his own 'post' came, dropped off his chair into the arms of death so softly, and lay in them so smilingly, having died in a moment and without a pang, that some one who saw him said, 'Surely the angels have straikit him.'

CHIPS FROM MY LOG.
No. II.

OLD NOTIONS ABOUT A VOYAGE TO AUSTRALIA-ARRIVAL AT
SYDNEY-PORT JACKSON-COUNTRY AROUND-WEATHER

-LEAVE FOR BATAVIA-KING'S ISLAND,

A WRITER in the Gentleman's Magazine' for September 1786, expresses himself thus:-'It has been seen in the public prints, that a plan for forming a settlement at Botany Bay for the restriction of transported felons, is actually to be carried into execution; but the plan is so wild and extravagant, that we can hardly believe it could be countenanced by any professional man after a moment's reflection. Not the distance only, but the almost impracticability of crossing the line with a number of male and female felons, who, in their cleanliest state, and as much at large as can with safety be allowed them in jail, and with frost, are scarcely to be kept from putrid disorders, must for ever render such a plan abortive. The rains, tornadoes, and heats that accompany these tempests near and under the line, are often fatal to the hardiest navigator; besides the mountainous seas that are almost always to be encountered in passing the Cape, and in the latitudes in which the transports must pursue their course to Botany Bay, no man surely who had a life to lose, or a relative or friend that he wished ever again to see, would engage in so hazardous an undertaking. We may therefore venture to foretell, that if any such desperado should be found, his fate, like that of Lunardi's * late expedition, will for ever deter a second repetition. . . Add to these objections, that the natives are the most savage and ferocious of any that Captain Cook met with in exploring the eastern coast of New Holland.' How mistaken were their prophecies and forebodings, and how little did they dream in those days of what Australia was

to become!

After a pleasant passage of five days from Port Philip, we reached Sydney on the 8th November. The view while sailing up the noble harbour of Port Jackson is as fine as one could wish to see. The shores are very tortuous; now jutting out into bold rocky promontories, and again receding to form quiet, sunny bays, with beaches of smooth white sand. Cottages and villas, with their surrounding gardens, enliven the dark native forests, while the surface of the water is studded with rocky and wooded islets, and glancing with white sails. Advancing up the harbour, the fine country houses get more numerous; a few windmills and a village called Wooloomoloo become visible; then the government house and gardens; and lastly, after sailing about six miles from the 'Heads,' or entrance of the harbour, we drop anchor in Sydney Cove, having Fort Macquarie on one side of us, and part of the town built on a rocky peninsula on the other.

finest feature of the landscape, but it furnishes the inhabitants with two of their most favourite amusements, namely, bathing and boating. Its shores and islands are mostly formed of sandstone, at some places representing upright faces, worn and scooped out by the water; at others, piled up in huge picturesque masses, whose crevices afford lodgment to a great variety of shrubs and flowers. The winding arms of the bay, bordered by pure white sand, and fringed by dark forests dotted over with cottages and gardens, I have already noticed.

During our stay I had many botanising excursions to the surrounding districts, but the country is less attractive than that about Port Philip. The forests are here more extensive and continuous, and the open lands more sterile, being for the most part either swampy or sandy, and covered with stunted shrubs. Paramatta, a village about sixteen miles inland from Sydney, is a very pleasant place, and proceeding from this in the direction of Windsor on the Hawkesbury, the country becomes more open and fertile, and is largely under cultivation. In the direction of the sea, and towards Botany Bay (which is about seven miles from Sydney), the land is almost useless in an agricultural point of view; but as botanising ground it is very rich; the profusion of flowering plants and shrubs is astonishing.

Notwithstanding that the neighbourhood of Sydney affords about the worst specimen of the colony, the situation of the capital is perfectly well chosen; its harbour being unrivalled, and communication with the other and more fertile parts of the colony being comparatively easy.

Our stay extended to nearly six weeks, and although it was the summer season, the thermometer never stood higher than 78 deg., and it ranged as low as 58 deg.; the usual temperature being about 70 deg. or a little lower. It gets hotter, however, in January and February, and the changes of temperature are sometimes very great and sudden.

During the above period we had nine rainy days, the rain being often preceded by thunder and lightning, or by lightning alone. Lightning of a very peculiar appearance was common in the evenings, from clouds hanging in the direction of the sea. The thunder-storms were generally preceded by hot weather and light northerly wind, and followed by a southerly wind and a considerable fall of temperature. On one occasion I noticed the thermometer to fall 10 deg., and on another 15 deg., on such a change of weather. I mention these facts about rain and temperature because they were considerably different from what I had been led to expect, and from what I believe to be the common notions about Australian weather in general; of course other parts of the colony and other seasons may present great differences.

On the 19th December, we left Sydney for Batavia; and on the evening of the same day saw a bright comet which we watched night after night for about a month, as it passed through the southern part of the constellation Sagitarius, and ultimately faded away among the fixed stars.

The nearest way from Sydney to Batavia is through Torres' Strait, but during a few months in the end and beginning of the year that route is not very safe, owing to the prevalence of westerly winds and cloudy weather; so we had to return through Bass' Strait and round Cape Leeuwin.

Sydney is a passable enough town, but scarcely fulfils the promise which it holds out from a distance. The chief attractions about it are the government domains, with the The chief incident of the passage was a visit to King's public parks and gardens, which are deservedly very much Island, situated at the western extremity of Bass' Strait, frequented. A cool, quiet nook of the botanical garden between Van Diemen's Land and the mainland of Australia. I shall ever bear in affectionate remembrance. In the For two days we had been tacking between King's Island taidst of a small pond, thickly surrounded by drooping wil- and Cape Otway, under double-reefed topsails and reefed lows, is a monument to the memory of Allen Cunningham, courses; but as the sea was running very high, and we botanist,' and close by it there is a rustic seat overshadow-found ourselves gradually losing ground, we determined ed by a clump of tall bamboos, where in the heat of the on taking shelter under the lee of the island, until the day I often spent a solitary hour. Decidedly the greatest westerly gale should blow over. On nearing the land, ornament of Sydney is its harbour; and not only is it the the anchor was cockbilled, the cable cleared out, and a man placed in the main chains to take soundings. When about three miles from the shore, deep nine,' sung out the man in the chains, meaning there was bottom at nine fathoms. The wind then shifted a little, and we had to

This was a celebrated aeronant of the time, who had several arrow escapes in the course of his aerial voyaging. A description is grand ascent from Edinburgh, and a sketch of his life, will be found in the letterpress to Kay's Portraits."

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minions, the broad translucent Thames. It is not the lover of nature only who delights in this wild district. The sportsman, baffled by the garden-like cultivation and lawny enclosures of this swarming Berkshire of ours, whose villas and villages and village-greens some irreverent fox-hunter was once pleased to designate by the name of Clapham Common, luxuriates in the distant coverts of turfy hills to the north of the great river. Dear above all to the courser was that wild open country, becoming wilder and more open with every mile: the absence of hedgerows enchanted his eye, and the bleak wind, as having surmounted the Lanton Ridges, he looked fairly across the valley to Hatherton Hill, never failed to gladden his heart: Hatherton Hill being next, perhaps, to Compton Bottom, the best place for trying a greyhound in England, the very Newmarket of coursers.

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make a tack to get at what seemed good anchorage. On approaching the shore a second time the lead was kept constantly going, and when it came to the mark seven,' the sails were clewed up, and the anchor let go about a mile from the beach. After dinner a party of us went ashore for a little exploration. At that time the island was uninhabited, but it was occasionally visited by sealers and whalers, and was said also to be a resort of runaway convicts, so that, not knowing what sort of company we might fall amongst, we thought it prudent to arm our selves with muskets and boarding-pikes. We landed on a sandy beach strewed with sponges, shells, and cuttle fish bones, with an occasional mass of granite rock rising above the general level. Behind the beach was a ridge of sandy ground covered with very dense brushwood. which we made several abortive attempts to penetrate. We got at length upon an eminence, whence we had a view a short No wonder that the finding themselves on the road to distance into the interior; but, with the exception of a this place of delight, some four years ago, should exhilarate small lake about half-a-mile inland, we saw nothing but the spirits of two young country lads, who, driving a the thick bush, and a few patches of tall trees, dead and spirited horse in a light open carriage, and having charge leafless. With some difficulty we reached the lake, and of two or three brace of dogs belonging to a master who found the water of a red colour and tasting strongly of had gone on, an hour or two before, to enjoy a few days' iron. Some wild-ducks were swimming and flying about, coursing with an intimate friend, conceived themselves and parrots and other birds were seen among the trees. amongst the happiest and most important of all human | In an open space beside the lake we came upon two or beings. The happiness was pretty equally shared; the three animals like young kangaroos, which stood upon importance by no means so; one of the pair, by name their hind legs looking at us, while we tried in vain to get Master Ben, being the real groom, valet, man of all work, our old pieces to go off, in order to shoot them. After factotum, and what not, to whom was delegated the charge witnessing for a little our fruitless endeavours they re- of the carriage, horse, and dog; whilst his comrade, who treated quietly into the woods. Failing to find any inlet boasted the euphonious appellation of Tom, was only a deor outlet to the lake, or anything else to excite our curi-puty's deputy, hired for the nonce; moreover, Ben was osity, we formed ourselves into a line, and began to force eighteen, and thought himself a man-a mistake into which our way through the tangled branches, intending to re- Tom, younger by two years and shorter by two inches, turn by a different route. At first we steered by the sun, could hardly fall; Ben had a new jacket, Tom an old one; but as we got farther into the bush we lost sight of it, and Ben had half-a-sovereign in his pocket, Tom half-a-crown; with it all idea of the proper direction. Coming to a Ben was a courser, and had been at Hatherton, whilst small space comparatively clear we stopped to take breath Tom had not only never visited that classic ground of all and consider our bearings, while one of the party was sportsmen, but had actually never seen a greyhound run sent up a tree to reconnoitre. From that elevated position in his life. he caught sight of the ship's masts, and, although he reported nothing but dense forest all round us, we shaped our course afresh, and pushed on with renewed vigour. Very soon, however, we were completely at fault; it was impossible to move in a straight line, and after a few turnings some said we should go one way and others another; but there was no help for it, as the bushes were so closely interwoven that it was impossible to get up any tree; so, after relieving the pioneer, we again advanced almost at random. In a little we came to another small clearing, and, while stopping to consult, we heard the noise of the surf close at hand. Once more, then, we boldly plunged in, but in vain. The brushwood presented an impenetrable wall, and we might as well have tried to walk through a haystack. After a careful examination, we at length found a spot that seemed pervious; and our leader, shutting his eyes, set his shoulder to it and forced his way, the rest following close. In a few minutes we suddenly emerged upon the top of a sandbank close to the beach, and our labours were over.

Next morning, the wind having changed, we got under weigh, and sailed round the east side of the island, with a light breeze from N.N.E., keeping a bright look-out, and feeling our way with the lead, as several rocks and reefs were appearing above water. At night we rounded the south end of the island, and next day we were hove to under close-reefed topsails, with another strong gale from the west. The day following (New-Year's Day) rose bright and sunny: the wind died gently away, and the thermome ter stood at 60 deg.

LITTLE DAVID.

[By Miss MITFORD, in the English Journal."] THE spot with which we are concerned is a district of Oxfordshire, divided from the gay and populous county of Berks, and the busy, thriving town of Belford Regis, by one of the most beautiful boundaries in her Majesty's do

To do Ben justice, he did all he could to enlighten Tom's ignorance, at which he thought himself much scandalised, though whether, like many a greater man, he might not find some consolation in so fair an opportunity of laying down the law upon the subject without risk of question, may be doubted; at all events, whatever could be done by talking of coursing, from the traditions of the late Lord Rivers's kennel, the some time monarch of that princely sport, to descriptions of Mr Goodlake's, his successor in skill, in spirit, and in success, Ben performed con amore; and between eulogiums upon all the principal dogs, with historical accounts of their different matches, and biographies of their several trainers, mixed with certain prophecies respecting the success of their own stud,' to follow literally the grandiose phrase of the lecturer, espe cially a yellow bitch called Marigold. In talk like this, diversified with occasional digressions respecting the good cheer of the house to which they were bound, and a few hints respecting a black-eyed dairymaid, who seemed to rival Marigold in Ben's regards, the time sped pleasantly along.

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Ben had talking to keep him warm, and Tom had novelty and anticipation, and the indomitable spirit of enjoyment of a country boy upon his first journey, sitting in a gentleman's carriage, and behind a gentleman's horse; less happily engrossed, they might have begun to find that the December's night was closing in raw and cold, and that when, after climbing up a steep ascent, they again got into the phaeton, the wind, which met them on the top, blew so fiercely as to render walking, if the less dignified, by very far the pleasantest mode of progress. Matters were not mended when the shelving craggy banks, picturesquely clothed with wood, which had hitherto skirted the road, disappeared, and they found themselves on a wide open common, of a very irregular surface, with a young moon just showing her slender face in a dreary-looking piece of water at some distance, and no shelter of any sort visible, so far as they could see. The wind blew colder and colder;

the very dogs, instead of keeping, as they had hitherto done, at the side of the carriage, seemed shrinking behind. 'Marigold!' cried Ben, Myrtle! Mayfly! Marigold! Whew! Marigold, then. Whew-ew-ew!' And Ben uttered a shrill prolonged whistle, peculiar and individual as an autograph, with which he had been wont to summon his favourite. 'Whew-ew-ew!' resounded from the bottom of the hill. Ben was no coward, and the days of ghosts were over (besides, who ever heard of a ghost whistling?), nevertheless he was a little startled; and when Tom, professing to believe it an echo, dryly desired him to try again, an injunction which he mechanically obeyed, the whistle had, so to say, a shake, which, if it could have been executed at will, would have had considerable value in a musical point of view. It's a great pity that mere letterpress can give no idea of the sound; but, although we must fail in the delineation, yet a most exact copy did arise this time from midway up the hill, continuing at intervals, mixed with slight variations, until at length a small figure, with the whole pack of missing dogs scampering around him, appeared at the top of the ascent; and Tom (for the hero of the whistle had stopped the horse from more motives, probably, than he could easily have enumerated) exclaimed, in a tone between amazement and disappointment, Why, it's only little David after all!'

Only David!' rejoined Ben, giving vent to another half whistle, checked pretty hastily, as the effect of the last glanced over his recollection; David! why it really is that little rascal, and the wretched pigmy of an animal that Marigold is tossing over and over can be nothing but his dog Spider. I knew that he was dying to come; but to see him here, twenty miles from home, with eight good miles before us before we get to a house, and he all in rags, and without a farthing in his pocket-poor tatterdemallion!-to pay for a bed or a supper when we do get to Hatherton; hang it. Tom, there's spunk in the little creature is not there? Suppose we take him on with us -eh? Master likes his pluck, and he'll be useful to help to hold the dogs. Here, you sir! jump up here, can't you? How came you to bring that dwarfish cur of yours with you? do you think we are going to course rats and mice, or to run against spaniels and terriers; or, for the matter of that, how came you here yourself? Get in, I sayjump

own limbs, he began to be useful in their little menage; and whilst the other brats of the village were thinking of nothing but getting into mischief and out of scrapes, he was already watching sheep, driving pigs, and keeping birds from the corn, for the farmers; milking cows, feeding poultry, and churning butter, for their wives; helping, now in the wheelwright's shop, now in the rope-yard, now at the forge; tending the curate's flowers, holding the vicar's horse, and running errands for everybody. Never was so trusty or so alert an assistant. Never, since the time of Puck (and really David was not much bigger than the popular notion of that esprit follet), was so vivacious or so diligent a little messenger. No opportunity of turning a penny in an honest way came amiss to him; and by the time he was as high, to use Ben's mode of mensuration, as Marigold's shoulder, at which time he might, by a rough computation, be about eleven years old, had fairly repaid Dame Butler's kindness by earning nearly enough, not merely for his own subsistence, but for hers.

Of all his ways of winning money, however, that in which David most delighted was the hard work called sporting, which, to that half of the world which calls itself the wiser sex, has a fascination so universal that it must in them, as in the nobler races of animals who minister to the passions, be inborn and intuitive. When still in feminine habiliments, and little bigger than a full-grown infant, it occurred to David, then exerting himself as aide-de-camp to a tall scarecrow in frightening the birds from a field of wheat, to see in a water-furrow a hare on her form. The field was by the roadside; Ben, already known to the urchin by sight and name, happened to pass; the boy pointed to the hare; Ben galloped off to fetch his master and the dogs; a fine run was the consequence; and the love of the sport from that hour never flagged or dwindled in David's bosom. As soon as he was old enough to keep up with the party, he was employed to lead the dogs, to help the spaniels in beating hedges, to find hares sittingin short, to form one of the busy, joyous train called a coursing party; and he soon became as well acquainted with the greyhounds, and nearly as good a judge of their various merits, as Ben himself.

By accident he had even become possessed of a greyhound in his own person. One evening in the spring preceding the date of our story, a poor, scared, half-starved creature, apparently only two or three months old, was And with a sly whistle, ostensibly addressed to the driven by some idle boys into the small court in front of greyhounds in general, and to Spider and Marigold in Dame Butler's cottage. David, tender-hearted to all aniparticular, but into which, in spite of his gratitude formals, rated the children, and called the frightened, tremBen's condescension, he could not resist the temptation of infusing some slight reminiscence of the above-mentioned shake, little David did jump into the phaeton; and, animated by their past adventure (nothing is plesasnter than a brief puzzle, with the least dash in the world of a fright, when once it is happily over), the three drove on in tenfold glee.

Little David, dwarf and tatterdemallion as Ben had justly called him, was a well-known, and, to say the truth, a popular inhabitant of our good village of Aberleigh. The poor boy was an orphan, and how old he was, who were his parents, or to whom (they being dead) he might be said to belong, were questions which nobody gave themselves the trouble to ask. Whether he had such a superfluity as a surname was doubtful. I question whether he knew it himself, or whether it had ever occurred to him to make the inquiry. Little David' was distinction enough to him. All that was known of his history was, that he had been placed by some long-past overseer with an old parish nurse, and that when the vestry claimed him as a denizen of the workhouse, Dame Butler, a lonely and childless woman, had become so strongly attached to the friendless boy that she refused to part with him, and in spite of the remonstrances of the parish authorities, and the still more urgent pinchings of poverty and age, had contrived to support him until he could earn his own living. Wonderfully soon did that happen. David vindicated the affection of his protectress by his industry and good conduct. When our children are hardly trusted to take care of their

bling puppy in a tone which, with the remarkable instinct by which dogs recognise friends, the poor little thing immediately obeyed. The remains of a basket were about her neck; she had evidently escaped from some coach or railway, and wandered about probably for days. After having satisfied his conscience by making enquiries at Belford, David, attached to his foundling-the first living thing he had ever called his own-from the sense of benefit conferred, and the poor creature's fond gratitude, prevailed with some difficulty on his good old grumbling nurse to receive Spider (by which exceedingly plebeian name he chose to designate her) as an inmate.

Never were dog and master better proportioned to each other. Spider was far more like an Italian than an English greyhound, and dwarfed probably by her early misadventure, did really seem fitter, as Ben said, to pursue after rats and mice, and such small deer,' than to run after a full-grown hare; and as to permitting him to try her speed against Marigold, a presumptuous wish which David had been rash enough to hint at, the thing was too derogatory to be thought of. It would be like matching a Shetland pony against a race-horse.

It was not even without many rebukes for bringing such a lap-dog, and many injunctions to remember that he must make everybody understand that Spider did not belong to our stud,' that Ben suffered David to bring his lap-dog (the most injurious name that he could think of) along with them. He even snubbed Tom for venturing to assert that she would be pretty if she were rather bigger. To all

such contumelies little David, who had received many kindnesses from Ben, to say nothing of the present cast, made no worse answer than a whistle.

Brightly shone the sun on Hatherton Hill, when, on the second morning after their journey, horse, and dog, and man, properly rested and refreshed, sallied forth for a long day's diversion. It was a gay and gallant sight: the hospitable host, surrounded by his own fine family, his troops of friends, and train of grooms and keepers, upon that magnificent eminence, forming a panorama, for extent and for historical interest, such as shall hardly be paragoned in the south of England. And the sport was worthy of the scene. Never were such hares; never such dogs! Marigold beat Nestor; and Ben was beside himself. And little David, who had never before seen coursing upon the Downs, David was crazy! It seemed incredible that so much noise-for, to the honour of coursing be it said, there is no noisier pastime-could come from so small a body.

At last, after host and guest had been alternately victor and vanquished in the friendly strife, and after some halfdozen of the neighbouring gentlemen had also breathed their greyhounds, an event occurred which put an unexpected and most unintentional check to the gaiety of the meeting. Sir John Harewood, one of the greatest coursers in England, who was known to be on a visit to a neighbouring nobleman, suddenly appeared, attended by a vast retinue of trainers, and grooms, and dog-boys, and a stud of some twenty brace of greyhounds, and, advancing most courteously to the party, hoped that he should not be considered an intruder if he preferred a request to try the speed of one or two of his dogs against some of those present. There was one which he particularly wished to try against the fleetest that could be found, as he intended to run him the next week for the cup at Deptford Inn, and another that had just won the goblets at Swaffham. If any gentleman would favour him with slipping a good dog against one of these, he should think himself much honoured.

'Whew!' quoth Ben. Ben was dumfounded; and, to say the truth, his betters were rather taken aback. Something one muttered about Marigold having cut herself, and another about Nestor having already run two courses; and the lord of the manor was about to couple a most courteous refusal of the challenge with a request that Sir John would run as many of his own dogs upon the hill as he chose, when, to the unutterable astonishment of the whole field, little David led Spider up to the training groom, and boldly proposed to run her against the dog who was about to be entered at Deptford Inn.

Whew-ew-ew!' quoth Ben, with redoubled energy. The groom, a tall man, mounted upon a tall horse, looked down upon David with the sort of scornful astonishment with which the giant may be supposed to have eyed the noted 'Jack' of the nursery legend, and vouchsafed no reply; but his master, a thoroughly well-tempered and kindly person, after enquiring to whom the pretty little creature belonged, and hearing from David's chief patron and protector the story of the boy and his dog, ordered Harebrain--between whom and Spider there was nearly the same disproportion as between the groom and her master-to be put into the slips.

Whew!' said Ben again. She's really pretty. If she should beat now! David and she belong to our party. It's only right to back 'em up. Hark ye, you sir, upon the great horse, I'll beat you half-a-crown upon the little 'un, shouted he, as, a hare being found, they were led to a bottom, which, as the hare was sure to make for the steep ascent, was peculiarly favourable to the smaller dog.

'Done!' responded the tall groom, grinning. Has any one else a mirrd for a bet? or will you venture another half-crown, comrade?'

'No,' said Ben, who indeed had only made this bet in a spirit of good fellowship, by way of encouragement to David and protection to a dog who came with his party. No more beats, thank ye! Ah, she's off! Now, Spider!'

Now, Harebrain!' shouted the grooms and dog-boys. But not long did they shout. Harebrain, used to the slips

and eager for the sport, had been nearly a yard a-head at first starting. But the bitch had passed him like lightning, strained up the hill-side, gained upon the dog at every stride, and had finally turned and killed her hare without Harebrain's coming in for turn.

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Whew-ew-ew!' quoth Ben. I beg your pardon, David, for doubting the bitch. She's a good 'un, sure enough, and I'm half-a-crown richer than I thought I was. Don't go mad about it, though, David, nor don't eat Spider up.'

It must be all accident,' cried the training groom, after honourably disbursing Ben's money. Have you a mind to run her again, my little man? Double or quits, sir?' Ay, ay!' cried David.

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Ay, ay!' said Ben.

The latter worthy was however about to demur a little, when, instead of the candidate for the cup at Deptford Inn, he found them slipping the winner of the Swaff ham goblet. But David stopped him. Let them run their best,' said he; you'll see she'll beat them.'

And beat them she did, after a longer course and a more decided triumph. And Sir John won the cup after all, not indeed with Harebrain, but with Spider, alias Heien, whom he purchased of her master at so high a rate that little David returned to Aberleigh a monied man, with a fortune in the Savings Bank, a new suit for himself, and a new gown for Dame Butler.

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TO A BALLAD-SINGER.
How dear is thy strain! yet how deep is the feeling
Of sorrow its melody brings to this heart!
How sad is the truth which each note is revealing-
With fondest delusions time dooms us to part.

In the days of my childhood that lay I oft chanted,
With faith which ne'er falter d in all that it told;
No cares, in my day-dreams, my spirit then haunted,
Life's green was unfaded-all glitter was gold.
But gay thoughts are gone with the careless intentions
Which prompted each act of my earlier years;

I sigh when pure past joys fond memory mentions,
And sing but to hide or to stifle my tears.

And, p'rhaps, thy employment, though once thy chief pleasure,
Is harder for thee than the heaviest toil;

For sorrow seems link'd with each note thou dost measure-
Each note which was once of a sorrow the foil.
Receive, then, thy pittance, and leave me, I pray thee,
Thy tremulous tones but ill suit a gay song;
Thy feelings, in spite of thy efforts, betray thee-
Mine tell me that I have been list'ning too long.
NEWTON GOODRICH.

LIFE OF SAMUEL CLUGSTON, THE SLUGGARD.

A laesy loord, for nothing good to donne,
But stretched forth in ydlenesse always,
Ne ever cast his mind to covet prayse,
Or ply himselfe to any honest trade;
But all the day before the sunny rayes
He us'd to slug, or sleepe in slothful shade.'-Spenser.

CHAPTER I.

THE father of the subject of these memoirs belonged to a class of artisans that are fast wearing out in these days of steam-power and cotton-wool. He was a customer weaver of the old school, when hoddan-grey and linsey-woolsey were in fashion, and every rural bride spun her own blankets. He was a tall, clumsy man, with big square bones and oxen eyes; but no man stood higher for a firm fabric and fair returns; and as he was a sober-living man and had plenty to do, and was late and early at his work, he became in the natural course of things a man of some means by the time he reached forty;-about which time he began to slip down very often after nightfall, by a back road, to see Lizzy Proudfoot, who kept her uncle's house,

who was the dyer in the place. Lizzy was a clippy, clever, saving body, always bustling about from morning till night, and putting every thing in locomotion about her; and as she had reached her thirty-seventh year without having had one admirer or offer of marriage, it is possible she had dismissed all idea of the matter: but some have fortune forced upon them after failing to force fortune, and so it was with Lizzy.

In due time she was Mrs Clugston, and in due time a mother, and in due time, also, her son Samuel reached his seventh year. He was the very picture of his father-the same unmeaning eye, with the same gaunt bones and muscles in embryo. Young as he was, his mother found work for him, and made him rise in the summer time with the first streak of light, and it was seldom he got to bed till she went herself. Andrew sometimes interposed on behalf of his son, but Lizzy had one set of arguments, which, on account of their soundness, no doubt, she always used, and never thought of altering. Is it not written,' she would argue, that if ye train up a child in the way he should go, when he is old he will not depart from it?— and is it not the case that, if ye learn young, ye'll learn | fair?-and, warst of a', is it not proven by several awful instances around us, that thrifty parents often make thriftless bairns, by indulging them in laziness and ill gaits?' As these three points were incontrovertible, they generally carried the day, and poor Samuel had to keep his eyes open and do what he was bidden do till his industrious mother chose to lie down beside her hard-working goodman. The consequence was, that three sounder sleepers, during the time it lasted, were not to be found in three parishes. It is true that little Samuel often sulked and rebelled and made much noise and many struggles to keep the bed, but as his mother was a woman of great decision of character, and had always a great deal to do, and few hands to do it with, his laudable efforts were uniformly unavailing; and as he was in a state peculiarly exposed to the ends of justice, he very early had the opportunity of connecting cause and effect in the moral world. To have heard Mrs Clugston in one of these spulzies, one would have thought that no woman born had so much reason to be broken-hearted as she had, and that Absalom was a perfect pattern of filial obedience as compared with her refractory son. There was another item in her maternal discipline which did not go well down with Samuel-and that was shortness of rations. She had three points of argument for this too. The first was, that gluttony was a sin; the second was, that it led to kicking and rebellion, as in the case of Jeshurun; and the third was-(really I forget what it was, though I was brought up next door to them)-but at any rate, she determined that her son should not fall a sacrifice to surfeiting and debauchery so long as she had the reins in her hands. Now it so happened (for what will perverse human nature not do?) that the things Mrs Clugston strove to keep from Samuel were the very things he set his heart on, as was shown one Sabbath evening when she was descanting upon the joys of heaven that little Samuel stopped her and asked, if they would get eating and sleeping there as much as they liked ?' It had been better for him he had not put the question, for it showed Mrs Clugston the tendencies of his mind and the necessity of curbing his carnal inclinations;-and how could that be done but by shortening the allowances and starving out the evil appetites? Whether it arose out of mere stubbornness, or whether nature had any hand in it, it would perhaps be difficult to say, but certain it is that Samuel began to nod when he walked, and was down in a dead sleep whenever his mother's back was turned; and, worst of all, the neighbours began to accuse him of appropriating turnips and bannocks, and every eatable thing he could lay his hands on. He had now the satisfaction to hear his mother do full justice to his character: There was never a better conditioned boy born than he was. and she would sooner believe that the minister of the parish had stolen their bread than her son.' Of course Samuel backed her as well as he could by sundry tears and grimaces, and by stoutly

asserting that he never touched their bannocks, and that they were liars every one of them. The tables, however, were soon turned upon Samuel. He had got access one day into the milk-house of Mrs Donald, and as she discovered the larceny almost as soon as it was committed, she posted over to Mrs Clugston's, and directly charged Samuel with it.

'It's a lee,' said Samuel, in a very determined tone; 'I never touched your cream.'

But you did,' insisted Mrs Donald. 'You're a great liar,' responded Samuel. 'I'm surprised,' said Mrs Clugston, that you can persist in charging the laddie wi' what he's innocent o'!' 'Innocent!-how would ye like if ane o' my callants were coming and taking the cream aff ane o' your best dishes?'

'Doesn't he tell ye, woman, that he never touched them?' 'But he did,' reiterated Mrs Donald. 'It's a lee,' maintained Samuel, getting his head into a putting position and his fists into boxing order. 'What's that on your nose, then?'

Samuel drew his hand across that organ, and bringing down with it what he felt to be incontrovertible evidence of his guilt, only said, 'Eh, ay! so it is!'

The cream affair was a standing witness against Mrs Clugston and her son, who was not many days together out of the box about one thing or another. It had this good effect, however, in Samuel's favour, along with the other charges brought against him, that it thickened his porridge and deepened his broth.

The school days began, and this was a delightful era in Samuel's life. He obeyed the calls of nature, instead of the calls of learning, and many a delicious nap he got whilst the young idea was shooting all around him. The boys would cry out that Sammie Clugston was sleeping,' but after a while this lost its effect, and Samuel was left to his repose in a corner at the top of the form where he sat. He must have had good talents, and paid strict attention to his lesson while at it, for he kept up with the rest, and in fact became rather a favourite with the master, who used to say, if Sammie would keep his eyes open, he would soon open a book with the best of them; but Samuel had more pleasure in keeping them shut, and so he shut them. It could hardly escape that so marked a feature should remain disconnected with Samuel's name, and so he came to be called Sleepie Sammie' by universal consent; and as boys will turn things into rhyme without reason, they gave an agreeable and poetical turn to the soubriquet by converting it occasionally into Sluggie Cluggie,' which was particularly distasteful to Samuel from the very first, so much so indeed that he fought twice about it, and would have gained in both cases, had he not given in on the ground that he was tired. I was one of the boys he fought with, and never was I so happy in my life as when he cried out, he was tired.' The marks of his blows did not leave me for weeks; for, though he was younger than myself, he was as tall and much stronger, and while the thunder-fit was on him he did great damage, as many a boy had reason to know, who had the temerity to break his slumbers. The opinion soon forced itself through the school that it was best to let sleeping dogs lie,' and so Samuel got his own will at last, and held on the noiseless tenor of his way, without let or interruption.

CHAPTER II.

Time has many attributes in common with death. Like death, it has great decision and perseverance; can march in the dark as well as in the light; works by night and by day, and in all places-at the bottom of the sea as well as on the surface of the earth; will neither bribe nor flatter; is repelled neither by plainness nor attracted by beauty; knocks at the gates of princes as well as at the doors of peasants; never takes a step backwards nor retracts its own deeds; seems always to be moving slowly and to be a great way off; overtakes men in the midst of ripening plaus and unfinished purposes; will listen to no arguments, and passes on while the orator is speaking and the crowd

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