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School, where crown'd monarchs might have learn'd of him
“ Ye sister trees, with branches old and dry !
“ But, lo, tow'rds Albert's mill the Patriarch wends!
Shame undeserved, the treadmill of the soul!'» Stunned by this blow, but not Albert was blameless; for he had into stone, is the Village Patriarch. been always " strong, laborious,
frugal, just;” but all over the
Enoch thinks perhaps for a moland,
ment of the escape he made from "in April's fickle sky,
Alice's clutches a few weeks ago The wretched rich and not less wretched but his fine finger-nor shall poetry
ever blind it-travels over a very poor Changed places miserably; and the bad different memorial-more pathetic Throve, while the righteous begg'd from than any that was ever writ in door to door!”
Greek. The shame of having an unprin
“ A broken mast, a bursting wave, a child cipled or profligate son has not fallen on Enoch Wray, and there is on Weeping, a woman frantic on the shore ; earth to comfort him still a Mary Rude stone! Thou tell’st a story sad Gould.
and wild. Therefore he yet walks erect before men's eyes, in spite of
• Pain, want, unkindness, all afflictions this blow falling on the burthen of a
Disease, suspense, with constancy I bore; hundred years. But behold him on his knees I In the churchyard “read. My heart was broken-Letty lies with ing with his fingers”
And now we know that Matthew died “ Pages with silent admonition fraught.”
Many of the inscriptions there his own chisel bad wrought! Nay, some The churchyard belongs to the of them had been even the effusions church in which Enoch Wray was of his own fervid and pious heart, married-married to Mary Gouldfor the Village Patriarch had been and doubtless she was buried hereone of Nature's elegiac poets, un- yet Enoch is busying himself with known but within the narrow neigh. other matters, and has forgotten bourhood of its tombstones. He where she lies. For had he rememcrawls from slab to slab—and his bered Mary Gould, would he not memory touches many an affecting have gone, first of all, up to her record. To such a visitant they must grave, and nowhere else have knelt ? be all affecting
Not so thought Ebenezer Elliott, and “ John Stot, Charles Lamb, Giles he knew Enoch Wray far better than Humble, Simon Flea,
either you or I—he had known him And Richard Green, here wait for all his—that is all Eben's—life, and Alice - me!”
in the poem you will find it writ.
" Oh, no!_not lost. The hour that shall restore
Enoch leaves the churchyard in trouble, to be brought back in a few days in peace; for now
“ It is the evening of an April day.
Enoch Wray is dead; and we are stone, that looks as if there were left to think on the Village Patriarcb, none other besides itselfin the churchhis character, his life, and his death. yard—though the uprights are abDo not we always do so-kindly or solutely josiling one another till they cruelly-whenever we chance to are in danger of being upset on the hear that any Christian man or wo- flats-slabs once horizontal, but now man of our acquaintance has died ? sunk, with one side invisible, into a “ Ah! is he dead !” “ Can it be that soil which, if not originally rich, has she is cut off ?" And a hundred cha- been excellently well manured, yet racters of the deceased are drawn ex- is suffered to produce but dockens, tempore, which, it is as well to know, nettles, and worse than weeds (can find no lasting record—that obituary it be fiorin ?) the rank grass of being all traced in letters of air. But wretchedness, that never fades, bewe are not disposed to write Enoch cause it never flourishes, thatchWray's epitaph, on the very day of ing the narrow house, but unablebis death-nor yet on the very day of though the inmates never utter a bis burial. Some time, shorter or complaint-even in the driest wealonger, elapses—after the disappear- ther, to keep out damp. That is ance of the
deceased-before you see rather a disagreeable image—and of a man like a schoolmaster earnestly the earth earthy; but here are some engaged with suitable tools in en. delightful images—of the beavens graving an imperishable record of heavenly; and, in the midst of them, filial, or parental, or conjugal affec- for a while let us part. tion, on a new handsome burial
“ He hears, in heav'n, his swooning daughter shriek. And when the woodbine's cluster'd trumpet blows; And when the pink's melodious hues shall speak, In unison of sweetness with the rose, Joining the song of every bird, that knows How sweet it is of wedded love to sing ; And when the fells, fresh bathed in azure air, Wide as the summer day's all golden wing, Shall blush to heav'n, that Nature is so fair, And man condemn'd to labour in despair ;Then, the gay gnat, that sports its little hour; The falcon, wheeling from the ancient wood; The red-breast, fluttering o'er its fragrant bower ; The yellow-bellied lizard of the flood; And dewy morn, and evening-in ber hood Of crimson, fringed with lucid shadows grandShall miss the Patriarch ; at his cottage door The bee shall seek to settle on his hand, But from the vacant bench haste to the moor, Mourning the last of England's high-soal'd poor, And bid the mountains weep for Enoch Wray ! And for themselves!-albeit of things that last Unalter'd most ; for they shall pass away Like Enoch, though their iron roof seem fast Bound to the eternal future, as the past ! The Patriarch died; and they shall be no more. Yes, and the sailless worlds, which navigate Th' unutterable deep that hath no shore, Will lose their starry splendour, soon or late, Like tapers, quench'd by Him whose will is fate! Yes, and the Angel of Eternity, Who numbers worlds, and writes their names in light, Ere long, oh, eartb, will look in vain for thee, And start, and stop, in his unerring flight, And, with his wings of sorrow and affrightVeil his impassion'd brow, and heav'nly tears !”
It was lately
well remarked in the of those feelings which supported it Sun, that the Trades' Unions were of old, and reconciled the children undermining the very foundations of of labour to their condition by the the social structure, and that unless peace and beauty they brought with they can be disarmed, it must sink them to bless the poor man's
lot. But into ruins. Were we asked, says the we shall not be unjust to the character excellent author of “ Character, Ob- of the working orders. Heavy disject, and Effects of Trades' Unions,” tress has come upon them-much of to give a definition of a Trades' it not brought by themselves on Union, we should say, that it was “a their own heads; and there has been Society whose constitution is the grinding of the faces of the poor.” worst of democracies, whose power Their rulers_Tories and Whigsis based on outrage, whose practice have often failed in their duties to is tyranny, and whose end is self- the people—and much of the guilt destruction.” How have such socie- that caused that distress lies at the ties-in an age distinguished above door of many misgovernments. Nor all other ages—in spite of the strong have the rich, as Christian men, al. and steady march of intellect, crush ways done their duty to the poor, ing all ignorance and all wickedness but have often, in the pride of under foot-overspread the king- wealth, been grossly neglectful of dom-not slowly springing up, as it their duty ; nor have the higher might seem, from the seed-but as orders acted as if they felt for if an Upas-Tree had been planted, the lower those sympathies which at its full growth, in every town and nature prompts, but which too city, distilling poison, starvation, often are palsied and benumbed and death? The education of the in the breasts of the great, by that people has been conducted by the very rank which, in noble natures, people's press. Useful knowledge keeps them freshlya-flow; for surely has been administered to them, and 'tis of the very nature of gentle blood greedily swallowed, with condiments to inspire benevolence, and how so of the Entertaining; and thus have well can they in whose veins it flows their minds been filled with power prove its purity, than by shewing and pleasure far beyond the wisdom that by their very birth they are beand happiness of their ancestors, neficent ? and their champions have proudly Upon an enquiry into the mani. and loudly exclaimed, in the light fold causes of the present wide and liberty of the emancipated spirit, distress and disturbance, fearfully Lo! “a peculiar people, zealous of reacting on each other, we shall not good works!” Yet, in the midst of all now enter; but we shall continue this illumination, the same millions, as heretofore to touch frequently mole or bat-blind, as if they were upon them, while discussing to the working their way under ground, or best of our talent, and we boldly say flitting through the twilight, while with good intention, the political, pride and folly were declaring, that social, and domestic condition of the Britons were now walking erect, for people of our beloved land. Labour the first time, like freemen, in the has now declared war against capital blaze of a new-risen day!
-plusquam civilia bella are ragingTo explain such a contradiction in and to whichever side is given the the nature of things and of man, victory, disastrous must be the other's would bastle a more searching phi- defeat-not to themselves alone, but lanthropy than ours; but no such to their conquerors too-so that in contradiction exists—for much of either event the whole country their boasted virtue is a dream, and must suffer by the prolongation the people are wickeder than they of a contest, which, if not termi. know_ibeir conscience is in the nated amicably, can be terminadark-and their intellect, so far ted but in blood. Heaven forbid from having been invigorated by what the latter! Peace once proclaimed, they have been taught, has been then must law ratify it by its wisweakened—and lost its hold on many "dom, and by its majesty preserve it