“CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c.

NUMBER 561.

A DAY IN THE EAST OF FIFE. IN one of the fine mornings of the by-past month, I left St Andrews on an excursion, which I designed should comprehend three or four places with which sundry historical and poetical associations were connected.

The sun towered brightly above the German Ocean as our little party drove out of the long and silent, but not unimposing street of the ancient city, and took their way along the open country to the west, where stacked fields proclaimed the triumph of a summer which has left even the querulous farmer not one word to say in its disparagement. As we went along, our hearts "rejoiced in nature's joy;" but it was not to indulge in fond musings over fine natural scenes that I, at least, had undertaken the excursion. My thoughts were with the days of other years, the desolate halls and mouldering sepulchres of men of name, and places upon which the deeds of a former age, whether good or bad, have stamped an imperishable interest. The first few miles of our drive presented us one of these places, which, however, we did not on this occasion stop to survey, namely, the scene of the assassination of Archbishop Sharpe. How strange it now seems, twenty minutes after leaving a populous town, to pass a place where one of the first dignitaries of the country was mercilessly butchered in open day! Magus Moor, famed as the scene of this deed, is now a mixture of corn-fields and thriving plantations; and almost the only feature of the locality which existed at the time, and still survives, is a solitary ash-tree beside the farm-house of Magus, the same which figures in a sculptured representation of the murder upon the archbishop's monument in the church of St Andrews. Another memorial of the deed is a small upright slab, erected, by Presbyterian hands, in honour of a Covenanter who, with five others, was executed at this place as an offering to the manes of the slaughtered prelate. This is now surrounded by a plantation, and is not easily reached. It is exactly one of those tablets of the wilderness which persecuted Presbyterianism has made so numerous throughout Scotland, and which, with all their heterography and doggrel, tell so strikingly, by their pure earnestness, on every pilgrim beholder. The murder of Sharpe was perpetrated by nine persons, some of whom were of the rank of gentlemen, between twelve and one o'clock, on Saturday the 3d of May, 1679. Though they remained to wreak their vengeful feelings on his body, and to rifle his papers, they all escaped unnoticed, nor were any of them ever discovered or brought to justice; but the deed was bitterly enough expiated otherwise, as such blunders generally are.

A few miles brought us to the rural village of Ceres, a pleasantly situated place, with a neatly-kept rivuletbordered green, such as every village ought to have, though in our northern land this is the good fortune of very few. I had often heard of the burial vault of the noble family of Crawford Lindsay, as being a sight worth seeing at this village, and to this object we lost no time in directing our steps. Close beside a large modern church of homely appearance, situated on the top of a high bank, is a small tile-covered building, which the grave-digger tells you is the tomb of the Lindsays! It was once a wing of the church, with a gallery for the use of the living family above, but is now disjoined; and it is accordingly to something like a potato-house that the pilgrim is directed as the last home of a family of twenty descents, two earldoms, and a viscountcy—a family which has filled Scottish history with its greatness and its deeds, from the time when the "Lindsays light and gay" fought at Otterbourne, and two centuries before that time to boot,

down to Dettingen and Fontenoy. We entered this poor earth-floored shed-for it was nothing betterand there found a few objects which I shall describe in order. Beside the wall, on the left, lay a full-sized stone figure of a gentleman in armour, supposed to be a distinguished member of the family who lived in the fourteenth century. Excepting in being broken through at the waist, it was in good condition, and a faithful memorial, no doubt, of the accoutrements of a warrior of that period. It formerly lay in the church, from which it was removed hither nearly forty years ago. The only other objects of a conspicuous nature were two frames or cases raised above the ground on skids, and which contained the remains of John Earl of Crawford, the famous general of George II., and his wife. The lid of the larger case being raised, disclosed the top of a coffin covered with crimson velvet, and presenting a brass plate with the following inscription :-"John Earl of Crawford, born 4th October 1702, died 25th December 1749, in the 48th year of his age." The lid of the coffin itself being raised, we saw a close coffin of lead, in which it is believed the embalmed body remains entire. It was with feelings which I should vainly attempt to describe that I felt myself in the bodily presence of the gallant and accomplished soldier, whose history I had so often read-who, in the service of Russia, astonished even the Cossacks by his horsemanship-who, commanding the life-guards at Dettingen, cried out, "My dear lads, trust to your swords, and never mind your pistols," and charged to the time of Britons, strike home-who kept the passes into the Lowlands while poor Charles was staking all his hopes at Culloden; and on many other occasions acted a conspicuous part in an age of which hardly any living specimen can now exist. And his countess, the elegant Lady Jean Murray, who left him after only six months of wedded happiness, before she had completed her twentieth year, and whom his affection caused to be embalmed, and sent from Aix-la-Chapelle, where she died, to this place what of her? A dusky, battered, metal cover, bearing the letters L. J. M., with a coronet, being lifted up from the case beside his lordship's coffin, we beheld beneath a quantity of mere rubbish, a mixture of decayed wood and bones, constituting all that now remains of "what once had beauty, honours, wealth, and fame," and was, besides, an object of the fondest solicitude to the best and bravest of men.

"How loved, how honour'd once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot;
A heap of dust alone remains of thee-

'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be."

A singular looking object attracting our attention amidst this wreck of humanity, the grave-digger took it up, and showed us more nearly what proved to be a portion of the skull, containing a piece of sponge which had been substituted for the brain by the embalmer. Think of the head of this young, beautiful, and many-titled lady, that head for which affection could once scarcely get a smooth enough pillow, now lifted and handled by the coarse hands of an unthinking rustic! The vault, so called by courtesy, presented no other objects but a small square case containing the intestines of the earl, and a few fragments of old tomb-stones, which had been taken from amidst the rubbish of the former church. Of all the other members of this ancient family buried here, no memorial remains, excepting three slab tomb-stones placed at the end of the vault on the outside, and which we found deeply covered with rubbish. Having got them cleared, I easily read upon one, "HIC JACET JOANNES LINDSAY DOMINUS DE BYRES," with the date of his death, 1562. The person referred to was John,

PRICE 1d.

fifth Lord Lindsay of the Byres, who commanded the Scottish army at the battle of Ancrum Moor, and was the father of that fierce reforming lord whom Scott describes in such lively terms in "the Abbot," as forcing Queen Mary at Loch Leven to resign her kingdom by sternly griping her arm. On the only other stone containing anything intelligible, I read the words EUPHAM DUGLIS. It was the monument of the wife of that savage lord, a daughter of the knight of Loch Leven, Queen Mary's jailor, and sister of the Regent Moray. Probably the other stone, as they were all of a size and similar in style, was the monument of Lord Patrick himself. These monumental slabs had once formed part of the floor of the church, but had been removed when that edifice was renewed in 1806; to such contingencies are the memorials of greatness exposed when a few ages have passed away. The line of these Lords Lindsay terminated in the great general above mentioned, who was fourth Earl of Lindsay, and eighteenth Earl of Crawford. Now that great family has no acknowledged male representatives, their lands are in the possession of others, and of their house of the Struthers, near Ceres, where they once lived in splendour, only a gable wall or two remains.

Having seen all which was to be seen at Ceres, we remounted our drosky, and proceeded in a westerly direction, for the purpose of visiting the old tower of Scotstarvet. Passing the modern house of Wemyss Hall, delightfully situated at the bottom of a southsloping hill, forming a beautiful pleasure-ground, we quickly approached the ancient seat which we were anxious to examine. Scotstarvet is a tall narrow tower, occupying the highest ground in an opening of the hills, through which we obtain a peep of the fine vale of the Eden. It is evident that the situation has occasioned the name, for tarbet, or tarvet, is a Gaelic word for an isthmus, or passage between hills. The tower is conspicuous from a great distance, relieved against the sky as it is approached, and its appearance is the more striking by reason of an ash-tree which springs out of the battlements, like a feather in a soldier's cap. We found the tower, on a near view, to be one of those wonders, a building of the middle ages, as straight, compact, and sharp, as the day it was finished. It is merely a tower of three vaulted storeys, the two upper of which have been inhabited by human beings, while the lowest has been a kitchen. A winding stair, contained in a square projection at one of the angles, gives access to the various rooms, and to the battlements, above and within which rises an additional room, in the form of a small slope-roofed house. Large modern additions to the tower existed till about fifty years since, but have since then been entirely removed. I visited Scotstarvet as classic ground, though probably few who now live have the faintest notion of the connexion of the place with anything superior to the commonplace affairs of mortals. The owner of this house two hundred years ago was Sir John Scott, director of the chancery, and a judge of the Court of Session, a man of remarkable talents and learning, and an eminent patron of literature, when most of his countrymen were absorbed in barbarous controversies. To his munificence we owe the publication of an elegant collection of the Latin poetry produced in that age by Scottish authors, as well as the production of an atlas of Scotland,+ which he himself helped to prepare and to illustrate by historical matter. A man like this is as a light to a traveller in a dark night, or a

refreshing spring in the midst of a parched land. He flourished in public life in Scotland, from a period not long after the accession of James VI. to the English throne, down to the reign of Charles II., steering his way prudently through all the troubles of his time, and never wanting in the means to gratify his refined tastes. Sir John's first wife was a sister of the poet of Hawthornden, who often lived here. Amongst Sir John's other visiters at Scotstarvet, were Sir James Balfour, the Lord Lyon and author of the " Annals," the two Johnstons the poets, and Sir Robert Kerr of Ancrum, also a poet. Ascending to the bartizan, we found over the door leading upon it from the stair, a stone containing the sculptured arms of the learned knight, together with his initials, "S. J. S.," and those of Dame Anne Drummond, his wife, "D. A. D.," with the date 1627, being probably that of a repair of the edifice. Here, besides the ash-tree, which is rooted firmly in the building, we found a gooseberry bush springing from the wall below the battlements. The people, it seems, have a notion that, when this bush dies, or is removed, something very sad will befall the owner of the mansion.

The Scotts of Scotstarvet were considered the first cadets of Buccleugh, and for several generations were remarkable for ability. A grand-daughter of Sir John, marrying Viscount Stormont, is believed to have been the means of inoculating that family with talent, of which one remarkable example is to be found in one of her sons, the first Earl of Mansfield. The family terminated in General Scott, father of Viscountess Canning and of the Duchess of Portland; and the property is now in other hands.* Here, also, there was room for a fond imagination to indulge in musings over days and things gone by. I lingered in the dismantled rooms of the old chateau, eagerly endeavour ing to realise the clever old knight and his friends, and reviving all I could remember of their intellectual labours. Could it be in this deep recessed window, where two fixed ris-a-vis seats still exist, that Sir John would employ his last days in chronicling all the disasters of the public men of his time, in that strange little book which did not till long after see the light, the "Staggering State of Scots Statesmen !" from which it was made to appear that scarcely a single man had held public employment in Scotland between 1550 and 1650, who had not, though for a time flourishing, come to wreck and ruin, or whose children at least had not done so. The tone of this book is sharp and biting; the venerable knight had himself suffered sorely under Cromwell, and was not too well treated at the Restoration; it is not very uncharitable to suppose that he might feel a slight consolation for his own misfortunes in contemplating those of his neighbours a source of comfort oftener experienced than acknowledged amongst the children of men. However this may be, the Staggering State is a curious record of the personal characters and familiar actions of the men of that age, and conveys a strong impression to the reader, that its author, as he sat and talked in the flesh at his own table, or by his own fireside, must have been one of the most entertaining of companions. Drummond, too, in whose classic

shade in Lothian Jonson had sat, must have often sat in the scarcely less classic shade of Scotstarvet, perhaps detailing to the greedy ears of his sister and brother-in-law the last visit he made to the wits of the south, and all the racketings he had with them at the Angel and the Mitre, or regaling them with some of the latest productions of the muse of Massinger, Ford, or Webster. Here, without doubt, he must have composed his whimsical poem entitled "PolemoMiddinia," for it relates to a familiar occurrence at Scotstarvet, and looks entirely as if written the evening after to amuse the particular circle there assembled. Grotesque as the subject is, I could not survey the fields around this now desolate tower, without investing them with a lively feeling of interest, as I considered that they had once been animated by the rustic bustle which the slip-shod muse of Drummond has there described. This poem is what is called macaronic, that is, a mixture of two languages, the most of the words being Scottish, but wrought up with Latin, and put into an appearance of Latin hexameter verse. It relates to a quarrel which the author's sister, Lady Scotstarvet (Vitarva), had with a neighbour styled Lady Newbarns (Neberna), and describes a conflict which took place between the servants of these two gentlewomen, in consequence of the former endeavouring to put a resentful indignity upon the latter. Let not the gentle reader be unduly startled, when I mention that this indignity consisted in causing all the Scotstarvet dung-carts to be led past the windows of Lady Newbarns. The transaction is described by Drummond in a breadth of style suitable to the nature of the incidents, and it is not difficult to conceive the roars of laughter with which it must have been received in the hall of Scotstarvet, where the characters which it so ludicrously reflected were all of course intimately known. I am tempted to make an endeavour to convey some notion of this poem to the unlearned reader, by means of a few passages with an interlined translation. Vitarva first calls her forces about her, and gives them their commission, telling them that if

* Excepting the patronage of the chair of Roman literature at with the Duchess of Portland. It is interesting to find the only

St Andrews, founded and endowed by Sir John: this remains

connexion between the descendants of this elegant person and the county where he once had so much property, is by a link of such a nature.

Neberna should come out and challenge them for
what they did, she would warrant and defend them.
Hic aderant Geordy Aikenhedius et little Johnus,
Here came Geordy Aikenhead and little John,

Et Jamy Richæus, et stout Michael Hendersonus,
And Jamy Ritchie, and stout Michael Henderson,
Qui jolly tryppas ante alios dansare solebat,
Who was accustomed to dance jolly trips before all others,
Et bobbare bene, et lassas kissare bonæas;
And to bob well, and kiss the bonny lasses;
Duncan Oliphantus, valde stalvartus, et ejus
Duncan Oliphant, a very stalwart man, and his

Filius eldestus, jolly boyus, atque oldmoudus,
Eldest son, a jolly boy, and an old-mouthed one,
Qui pleugham longo gaddo dryvare solebat ;
Who was wont with a long gad to drive the plough;
Et Rob Gib, wantonus homo, et Oliver Hutchin,
And Rob Gib, wanton man, and Oliver Hutchin,

Et plouky-faced Watty Strang, atque in-kneed Elshender Aitken,
And plouky-faced* Watty Strang, and in-kneed Elshender Aitken,
Qui tulit in pileo magnum rubrumque favorem,
Who bore in his bonnet a great red favour,
Valde lothus pugnare, sed hunc Corngrevius heros
Very loth to fight, but him the Corngrieve hero
Noutheadum vocavit,atque illum forcit ad arma.
Called Nolt-head, and forced to arms.
Insuper hic aderant Tom Taylor et Hen. Watsonus,
Here also came Tom Taylor and Henry Watson,
Et Tomy Gilchristus, et fool Jocky Robinsonus,
And Tommy Gilchrist, and fool Jocky Robinson,
Andrew Elshenderus, et Jamy Tomsonus, et unus

Andrew Elshender, and Jamy Thomson, and one

Norland bornus homo, valde valde anti-covenanter,

A Norland born man, a dreadful anti-covenanter,
Nomine Gordonus, valde black-moudus, et alter,

Gordon by name, very black-mouthed, and another,

(Deil stick it! ignoro nomen) slav'ry beardius homo,
(Deil stick it! I've forgot his name), a slavery-bearded man,
Qui pottas dichtavit, et assas jacerat extra,
Who cleaned pots, and threw out ashes.

The unsavoury procession sets out amidst great din, with Piper Law playing "the Battle of Harlaw" before it, and the insult to Lady Newbarns is accomplished which lady, however, comes out in great rage, and calls forth her barrowmen and lads, and her jack-man, hire-men, plough-drivers, and ploughmen, tumbling-boys from the reeky kitchen, wide-breeked fishermen, and coalmen and salters as black and ugly as a certain personage, and also the servant-womenfor instance,

Maggæam magis doctam milkare cowœas,
Maggy better skilled in milking cows,

Et doctam sweepare flooras, et sternere beddas,
And sweeping floors, and making beds,
Quæque novit spinnare, et longas ducere threddas;
Who knew also to spin, and draw out the long threads;
Nansæam, claves bene quæ keepaverat omnes;
Nanse, who carefully kept all the keys;
Yellantem Elpen, longo bardamque Anapellam,
Yelling Elspeth, and long-bearded Annaple,
Egregie indutam blacko caput sooty clooto;
Whose head was signally clothed in a black sooty clout;
Quæque lanam cardare solet greasy fingria Betty.

And greasy fingered Betty, accustomed to card wool.
Neberna feeds her troops well, and sends them to the
combat, which rages intensely on a field neither dry
in the style of the Iliad and neid, until, as in the
nor clean, and during which many incidents take place
Homeric and Virgilian battles, attention is concentred
upon one pair of combatants, namely, a savage maid
of Neberna's styled Gilly, and a carter of Vitarva's,
whose name is not given, and who had offered a par-

ticular insult to her mistress :-
Extemplo Gillea ferox invasit, et ejus
Quickly fierce Gilly attacked him, and

In faciem girnavit atrox, at tigrida facta,
Savagely grinning in his face, and, tiger-like,
Boublentem grippans beardam, sic dixit ad illum :-

Gripping his trickly beard, thus said to him :—

the other presenting the arms of one of his successors of his own family, with the date 1650. The ground has been alienated from the name of Lindsay for more than a century, and now belongs to General Sir Alexander Hope of Rankeillour. In 1806, a farmer of patriarchal age, who had dwelt seventy years on the spot, pointed out to a correspondent of Mr George Chalmers "a shaded walk on the top of the Mount, where Lindsay is said to have composed some of his poems. It was called, in the youth of this aged man, Sir David's Walk; and in 1801, when the woods of the Mount were cutting, the same venerable enthusiast interceded with Sir Alexander Hope for three ancient trees, which stood near the castle, and wereknown by the name of Sir David's Trees. The liberal spirit of that gentleman probably needed no such monitor; but the trees were spared. It is likely they still remain, and the literary pilgrim may yet stand beneath their shade, indulging in the pleasing dream that he is sheltered by the same branches under which the Lord Lion was wont to ruminate, when he poured forth the lays which gave dignity to the lessons of experience, and accelerated the progress of the Reformation."*

In the thriving town of Cupar, to which we now proceeded, we went to see the castle-hill, on whose esplanade Sir David's extraordinary Satire of the Three Estates was acted in the open air during his life-time. The spot is now occupied by school-rooms, but it is still possible to form some notion of this open-air theatre and its assembled audience, grinning at the jests directed by pardoners, paupers, and sutors, by Dissait, Flattrie, and Wantonnes, against the vices of the contemporary clergy. In English literary history, the satire is a piece of some distinction, as the last specimen of the class of plays called Moralities, in which the chief characters were abstract qualities personified. Its clever raillery is mingled with grossnesses of speech and act, the repeated witnessing of which by a king, queen, and court, cannot but excite the greatest surprise in the present age. When our horses had rested a due time at M'Nab's, we recommenced our journey, which was now almost directly homeward. In the course of the drive we saw a few more sights, not unworthy to be told to the gentle reader; but, like the sultaness Schecherazade, I am clear for not telling too much at once, and so, for the present, I make my bow

INSURRECTIONS AT LYONS.

SECOND ARTICLE.

CIRCUMSTANCES Soon occurred to prove that the working-men of Lyons had derived no effective warning

from their futile and blood-spilling outbreak in November 1831. The miserable tariff for which they had held out having been given up at the time with perfect indifference, a new plan was tried, with full consent of both masters and men. This consisted in the establishment of a tribunal, called L'Institution

Gallantæi hominis gash beardam besmeariavit Besmeared all the gash beard of the gallant man; "Sume tibi hoc," inquit, sneezing valde operativum "Take that till thee!" she said, sneezing violently, "Pro premio, swingere, tuo;" tum denique fleido "For thy reward;" then to the frightened fellow Ingentem Gilly wamphra dedit, validamque nevellam, Gilly-wamphry gave a good heavy knevel, t Ingeminatque iterum, donec bis fecerat ignem And repeated it till twice she made the fire Ambobus fugere ex oculis; sic Gylla triumphat. Fly from both his eyes; and so Gilly triumphs. Astonished stood the bumbaized man, and suddenly

Obstupuit bumbaizdus homo; backumque repente

Turnavit veluti nasus bloodasset; et, "O fy ""
Turned back as if his nose had been bleeding, and, “O fy!”

Ter quater exclamat, et O quam fœde neezavit!

He three or four times cried, and O how dreadfully he sneezed!

Enough, perhaps, of this homely stuff, which, however, I may say in my own defence, a bishop was the first to give to the world. And so turn we the back of our drosky to the old tower of Scotstarvet.

Descending the slope towards Cupar, we had full in front the rich vale of the Eden, thickly bedecked with elegant modern mansions, amongst which the Priory, the seat of the late Lady Mary Lindsay Crawford (the last of the Crawford Lindsays), shone conspicuous. Right opposite rose a beautiful wooded hill, having an obelisk on the top, to the memory of John Earl of Hopetoun, a distinguished soldier of the Peninsula. This is the Mount, once the property and residence of the poet of the Scottish reformation, Sir David Lindsay. We designed to climb its sides, and visit the spot where the worthy Lord Lion, King at Arms, had lived; but, on reaching Cupar, finding the distance greater than we had calculated upon, we were obliged to give up the intention. I may here, nevertheless,

of manufacturers and delegated workmen, whose business it was to arrange the scale of wages for regular periods. It was hoped that this council would prove one of amity and concord; but it speedily proved to be a very pandemonium of confusion and anarchy. The representatives of the working-men carried their prejudices and passions with them, and acted not as the colleagues, but as the constant and bitter rivals of the master-deputes, interrupting debates, and annulling decisions at will. A mob was, moreover, admitted to the place of meeting, and there hooted and threatened all who displeased them. Harmony was farther distant than ever.

Nor did the evil rest here. The disturbances of 1831 had drawn upon Lyons the attention of all the wild speculators in politics, morals, and religion, whom Paris or France contained; and preachers and leeturers of all denominations accordingly flocked to the unfortunate city. Before the outbreak of 1831, the weavers of Lyons had been remarkably indifferent to all sorts of politics and political discussions. A few months sufficed to change their feelings. As was to be expected in a place where so much ignorance prevailed, the adventurers who preached republican opinions found most converts in the workshops of Lyons, outstripping all their competitors, from Carlists to SaintSimonians. Ere long, the workmen chose to have a newspaper purposely for themselves; and this journal, called the Echo de la Fabrique, had for its auxiliaries other papers, which openly advocated a revolution and a republic. By such combined causes were the uninstructed weavers of Lyons worked up to, and kept continuously in, a state of frenzy. "The great weapons of the publications described were, of course, calumny and personal defamation. Any manufacturer or merchant who did, or even said, anything considered unfavourable to the cause of the people

* Mr Tytler's Scottish Worthies, Family Library.

was at once accused of every vice and crime, and held up as a monster to popular execration."

M. Monfalcon, the writer now quoted, states that, during the thirty months intervening between November 1831 and April 1834, "Lyons never at any time enjoyed fifteen days of tranquillity." The numerous and sometimes conflicting sources of agitation tended, for a part of that period, to prevent any great or combined movement towards a new insurrection. But at length certain gentlemen, calling themselves Propagandists of the Society of the Rights of Men of Paris, came to the city of Lyons to lend their generous assistance in throwing the confused mass of mischief into a proper shape, and in giving it an impulse toward its destined end. Under their auspices, unions were formed, and laws and bye-laws concocted. The two great unions were, that of the Mutuellistes, or weavers who had looms of their own; and that of the Ferrandiniers, or weavers who had no looms. The constitution of these unions was nearly the same. The Mutuellistes had one hundred and twenty-two lodges, of twenty members each, and with a president in each. From the united body of presidents were formed twelve central lodges, each of which named three members to form an executive commission, which thus consisted of thirty-six members. This commission again resolved itself into a permanent directory of three members. Each member of the union paid five francs on admission, and one franc per month regularly. The money here was the important matter, fine though the lodge-scheme looked. The money was the thing which sustained such men as struck or wanted work; and the money kept up the Echo de la Fabrique, as well as the Echo des Travailleurs, a rival which sprang up in due time.

Though dissensions soon occurred among these unions, yet they so far worked out their unhappy ends as to give a stronger aim to the mischievous elements existing in Lyons. From the middle of 1832, the city not only never enjoyed fifteen days of peace, but a month never passed without an open attempt at insurrection. These would have been much more quickly and decisively destructive than they really were, but for the wise measures taken by the French government immediately after November 1831. They then commenced to fortify the city, and in less than two years a number of forts, connected partly by entrenchments, had arisen around Lyons, while a strong barrack was built in the square of the Bernardines, commanding the always turbulent quarter of Croix Rousse. The erection and completion of these works, with the number of forces in the city, doubtless kept down the insurrectionary spirit to a certain extent. But it grew in strength and audacity till it became ungovernable. At the close of 1833, scarcely a day passed without a riot, more or less serious. Mingling political with commercial matters, the weavers publicly sang republican hymns at the same time with psalms about the tariff, the cry for which revived in double force; and " Down with Louis Philippe !" "Long live the guillotine!" "Down with the aristocrats!" were also common cries on the streets of Lyons.

In consequence of these mad dissensions, the silk trade was in a languishing state in February 1834. The natural result was, an inability on the part of the manufacturers to pay the wages given before. Blind to the fact, that their own previous insane conduct had the inevitable tendency to cause this fall, the Mutuellistes, by a majority of 2341 over 1290, resolved on a strike. Next day not a loom in Lyons was at work, the minority remaining idle under compulsion. From the 12th to the 22d, the weavers held out, making senseless and vain demands; but after the eight days had elapsed, they returned to their work, having gained nothing. But it was calculated one million of francs (L.40,000 sterling) were lost to Lyons during these eight days. And, moreover, a "great number of families left the town, and terror became general among the manufacturers. Most of them concealed their goods or packed them up and exported them, and then getting their own passports, hurried from Lyons as fast as they could. Considerable amounts of capital thus left the city. Some first houses were shut up and abandoned."

how and when a revolt, political and commercial, might be best effected. The actual determination to revolt was taken, and the workmen were confident of success, though the troops in the city amounted to 10,500 men. The rioters deemed the troops friendly, however, and there committed a great and fatal mistake. The 9th of April, the day fixed for resuming the trial of the six Mutuellistes, was looked on by the authorities as the perilous moment, and justly, as it proved. "On Wednesday, the 9th of April," says M. Monfalcon, "at seven o'clock in the morning, the soldiers were at their posts with loaded muskets, cartridge-boxes filled, their knapsacks on their shoulders, and with rations for two days. They were disposed in four separate divisions. General Fleury was at La Croix Rousse; Colonel Diettman at the Hotel de Ville; General Buchet at the archbishop's palace; Lieutenant-General Aymard, the commander-in-chief, at the square of Bellecour. At eight o'clock, M. Binformed M. Gasparin, the prefect, that the chiefs of the section of the Society of the Rights of Man were assembled at a house close by. He, moreover, brought a heap of republican proclamations wet from the press. A member of the municipality proposed the immediate arrest of men whose intentions were no longer doubtful to any one; but another member of the same body showed the disadvantage there would be in exercising such an act of authority before the commencement of hostilities by the insurgents in the public streets. It was therefore agreed that the republicans should be left to act.

At half-past nine o'clock, the mob began to fill the streets and squares. The authorities were again asked to order the arrest of some of the chiefs of the associations, who were abroad with the crowd. The answer was, 'No! as yet they have committed no disorder, and the authorities ought to avoid even the appearance of aggression-they must not be struck before they strike.' A man placed himself in the midst of the square of St Jean, and read a republican proclamation addressed to the soldiers and the working-classes. The colonel of the gens-d'armes, passing at the moment, tore the proclamation from his hands, and arrested the reader. Shortly after, the crowded square of St Jean was suddenly and completely evacuated; not a republican, not a single weaver was to be seen. The most absolute solitude and perfect silence reigned there.

But the insurgents had begun to raise their barricades in the street St Jean, and in all the streets and lanes that opened upon the square. The scaffolding and materials of some houses that were building beams, planks, stones, carts, and overturned carriages served to form these lines of defence, and the pavement was taken from the streets to be thrown at the soldiers. When informed that a second, a third, and a fourth barricade was thus rising, General Buchet ordered half a battalion of infantry and a platoon of gens-d'armes to clear the public way, but to refrain from firing until an act of open hostility was committed. A few soldiers and some policemen rushed against the first barricade, and attempted to overturn it; they were instantly assailed by heavy stones, thrown by the insurgents from the gates, windows, house-tops, &c. Here, then, was not only a resistance but an aggression-a carbine was discharged from the detachment of troops the gens-d'armes commenced the fire.

-

During this time, the trial of the six Mutuellistes had begun. At the report of the first shot, the advocate for the accused, M. Jules Favre, stopped short; he could not, he said, continue to plead whilst the citizens were slaughtered in the streets. The whole audience was violently excited. M. Pic, the president, broke up the court. The next moment judges, magistrates, advocates, officers, and all, rushed pell-mell out of court, and endeavoured to gain their different homes before the scene of warfare should have time to extend itself."

But the spirit of the misguided workmen was unbroken. "On the second day, they challenged a renewal of the combat at six A.M., by ringing the tocsin from St Bonaventure and other churches. The firing, however, did not begin till eight o'clock. The street warfare presented much the same character as the preceding day; but at La Guillotière the battle became still more furious. A multitude of working-men, placed on the roof-tops and behind chimneys, fired incessantly on the troops; consequently whole batteries of artillery thundered on that populous suburb, and soon wrapped many houses in flames. The main street was literally swept by the cannon. A large and beautiful house, situated at one corner, was set on fire-the flames rapidly spread from house to house, and in a short time all that part of La Guillotière was

nothing but a heap of smoking ruins. At another point near the hospital, the troops kept up a tremendous fire of musketry against a party of working-men who lay there in ambush behind a barricade. The balls rebounding (par ricochet), entered in at the windows of the houses, and wounded many females. At noon, the black flag floated over the church of St Polycarpe, at L'Antiquaille, at Fourvières, at St Nizier, and at the Cordeliers. The stunning tocsin resounded on all sides. Colonel Mounier, at the head of some grenadiers, ordered the destruction of a barricade in

the street of St Marcel. The colonel directed the attack in person. He wanted to show his men how easy it was to carry such a defence; he jumped upon the barricade, and was shot dead by a musket fired point-blank. The death of that brave officer infuriated the grenadiers; they threw themselves upon the barricade, scaled it, beat it to the ground, and pursued the insurgents, who fled in all directions. A few of the soldiers saw some of the republicans seek refuge in a corner house; it was from that direction that the fatal shot which killed poor Mounier was fired. With blind fury the grenadiers rushed into the house, ran up the stairs, forced open the room doors, and discharging their pieces, killed, among others, one of the most honourable and esteemed citizens of Lyons, M. Joseph Rémond. Thus, the death of the brave Colonel Mounier was followed by a not less deplorable accident! Mournful results of civil wars are these, where the lives of so many innocent persons expiate the offences of the factious, who themselves often escape unpunished! During this day, the buildings of the College were set on fire three times, and three times the fire was extinguished; the library was threatened with destruction, but fortunately that rich literary treasure did not sustain the least injury. At the end of this day, if the garrison had obtained no decisive success, it had at least lost none of its advantages. The insurgents had nowhere gained ground, though they had fought with more obstinacy than had been expected."

It would be painful to follow this insurrection through all its details. The plan of action pursued by the military, consisting chiefly in discharges of artillery, was prudent as regarded themselves, but awfully destructive as respected life and property in the insurgent streets. The soldiers took care not to enter the long narrow streets, where escape with life was almost impossible. Four days the warfare continued unabated. On the evening of the fourth day (12th of April), however, the troops were in possession of nearly the whole city, and peaceful citizens began to breathe freely. Physicians for the first time dared to visit the sick and wounded. Still there was a little fighting on Sunday the 13th, but on the 14th the contest ended. On that day, the last lanes in La Croix Rousse were taken, and nearly every insurgent in them was shot or bayonetted by the troops. It was only then that the true authors of the evil were exposed to and met the fate which they had provoked. By these six days of commotion, Lyons was left nearly in ruins. The destruction of property was enormous, and the loss of life also very great, though not proportionate. The results of the whole was an almost total stoppage of the silk trade in Lyons. Capital was taken from it to an immense amount, and its owners settled in more tranquil scenes. For years

to come, the effects of these riots must be felt in the trading concerns of the city.

BIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES.

JOHN KEPLER.

AFTER Copernicus and Galileo, the history of astronomy does not present a more illustrious name than that of John Kepler, the "Legislator of the Heavens," as he has been somewhat rashly called, from the splendid discoveries which he made respecting the movements of the planets. He was born in 1571, near Weil, in Wirtemberg, of which place his paternal grandfather was burgomaster. The father of the great astronomer was an improvident man, who left sober pursuits to be a soldier under the infamous Duke of Alva in the Netherlands: his mother was illiterate and of disagreeable temper. Being born in the seventh month, he was at all periods of his life small and of a weakly frame of body. His early education was repeatedly interrupted by his being put to humble rustic occupations; but his abilities, nevertheless, became so conspicuous, that it was resolved, more particularly considering his want of personal strength, to bring him up to the church. The education necessary for this purpose was begun in a school at Maulbronn, at the expense of the Duke of Wirtemberg, and completed at the college of Tubingen, an eminent Lutheran seminary, remarkable for its advocacy of the doctrine of the omnipresence of the body of Christ. There he took his degree of Master of Arts in 1591, on which occasion only one person stood above him in 'the list.

The professional prospects of Kepler were blighted by the freedom which he assumed in judging of religious doctrines, and particularly that which was so much a favourite with his college. Finding himself, for this freedom, abused as a heretic, and an atheist," he was glad to accept an a self-seeker, a hypocrite, invitation from the States of Styria, to take the astronomical lectureship in the gymnasium at Gratz. He was now in his twenty-second year, and had not as yet turned his mind particularly to astronomy, al

though, at Tubingen, his mathematical teacher had been Michael Mastlin, an able man, who had given much attention to that subject, and is said to have been the converter of Galileo to the Copernican system. Kepler undertook the office, because he thought himself bound to become useful as soon as possible; but having, even at this early period, ambitious wishes, he thought proper to reserve his right to enter upon any more brilliant career that might present itself. Here, by his very first act, he had the misfortune further to inflame the divines of Tubingen against him. The delinquency consisted in drawing up an almanac for Styria, in which, according to the fashion of the country, he adopted the new style-a thing correct in itself, but for which Europe had been "The new calendar," said the Tubingen sages, "has manifestly been devised for the furtherance of the idolatrous popish system." Kepler, on the other hand, thought it "a disgrace for Germany to be alone without that correction which the sciences desire." This strange trait of jealousy in the German university conveys a strong impression of the keenness with which religious differences were felt in the sixteenth century.

indebted to a pope.

Kepler had been well grounded at school in figures, numbers, and proportions. He had also given his thoughts to the" examination of the nature of heaven, of souls, of genii, of the elements, of the essence of fire, of the cause of fountains, the ebb and flow of the tide, the shape of the continents and inland seas, and things of this sort." Investigations of nature were then mixed up with superstitious notions derived from the vulgar, and genuine light was only breaking, in faint streaks, through the mass of ignorance and delusion. The Copernican system had been promulgated, but existed only as an obscure heresy, patronised by a few. Kepler had been taught by Mastlin to look favourably upon it; but at such a stage in the progress of new ideas, even powerful minds are apt to concede more to old and respectable error than to an innovating truth. Kepler had now devoted himself for some time to astronomy; but his mind was naturally ingenious and fanciful rather than philosophical in the proper sense of the word. His favourite plan of investigation, not only at this period, but throughout his whole life, was first to conjecture, and then to endeavour to make good his conjectures by laborious calculations shaped for that end. He was chiefly bent on discovering analogies in nature. The most remote things he endeavoured to reduce to some sort of resemblance. He was particularly anxious to find mathematical proportions in the orbits of the different planets, or rather in their spheres; for, as yet, each planet was supposed to be fixed or set in a hollow sphere in which it revolved. He first tried if their various distances were multiples of each other, in which he completely failed. Then, by one of those happy strokes of daring which distinguished him, he inserted a new planet between Jupiter and Mars, where it latterly has been found there is a group of small ones; but still this did not help him. In some subsequent conjectural calculations of a geometrical kind, he was struck by the appearance of a proportion between the circle inscribed without and that described within a triangle, and the orbits of Saturn and Jupiter; and following out this idea of measurement in reference to the other planets, he imagined that he had accounted for the five solid figures of geometry, and detected the secret of the planetary arIn a rangements, whereupon his joy was boundless. small work, entitled "Prodromus," in which he explained his theory, he says "The intense pleasure I received from this discovery can never be told in words. I regretted no more the time wasted; I tired of no labour; I shunned no toil of reckoning; days and nights I spent in calculations, until I could see whether this opinion would agree with the orbits of Copernicus, or whether my joy was to vanish into air. As men," he continues, "enjoy dainties at the dessert, so do wise souls gain a taste for heavenly things when they ascend from their college to the universe and there look around them. He who has discerned the frailty of human affairs, will aspire heavenward from earth. He will begin to set less value on what once appeared to him the most excellent. He will esteem God's works above all things; and, in the contemplation of them, he will find a pure enjoyment. Great Artist of the world! I look with wonder on the works of thy hands, constructed after five regular forms, and in the midst the sun, the dispenser of light and life. I see the moon and stars strewn over the infinite field of space. Father of the world! what moved thee thus to exalt a poor, weak, little creature of earth so high that he stands in light a far-ruling king, almost a god, for he thinks thy thoughts after thee!" This sublime exultation was soon found to be premature, for the theory of the five solid figures did not prove true; but Kepler in time made it all appropriate. The ingenuity displayed in his little work was universally admired. In 1597, Kepler married Barbara Müller, a lady of noble family, who would not ally herself to him till he had first proved his own descent from a noble ancestry. She possessed some fortune, which he expected would leave him at ease to pursue his favourite studies; but this prospect was blighted by a persecution of the Protestants which the Duke of Styria now commence, and which led to the retirement of our philosopher from the country, after selling his estate at a great disadvantage. He condescended to intreat pro

*

tection and aid from the college of Tubingen; but his a professorship in the University of Linz, to which ho heterodoxy on the Omnipresence forbade them to then removed. Not long after, he had the misfortune do anything in his behalf. His book had attracted to lose his wife; but he soon replaced her with a the favourable opinion of Tycho Brahe, the celebrated second, by name Susanna Rettinger. By these ladies Danish philosopher, who, banished from his own coun- he had a considerable number of children; but all try, had found a refuge at Prague, where he pursued except two predeceased him, and it is acknowledged astronomical observations with a set of instruments that no descendants of his exist. About two years far superior to any of the kind as yet in existence. after his second marriage, his peace was disturbed by Tycho's theory of the planets was allied to the old a cause for which the reader will be little prepared-a one of Ptolemy, and opposed to that of Copernicus. charge of witchcraft against his mother. We learn, He wished Kepler to set his calculating mind in with feelings of an extraordinary kind, that during the action on the Tychonic theory as he had done on the ensuing five years, while engaged in those researches Copernican. He, therefore, with the sanction of the which established some of the most important truths Emperor Rudolph, invited the German philosopher to in astronomy, this illustrious man had to give much join him at Prague. Kepler, at a loss for an asylum, of his time, thoughts, and labour, to the defence of an and eager to have the benefit of Tycho's splendid in- aged parent against one of the most ridiculous of acstruments, consented, and he and his family removed cusations. At length, in 1618 (we learn from himself thither in 1600. The association was not a happy that it was on the 15th of May), he discovered his one, for Tycho was proud, and Kepler, with a suffi- third law, that the squares of the times of the revoluciency of pride, was poor and dependent. But their tion of the planets are as the cubes of their mean disquarrels were put an end to by the death of the illus- tances from the sun; thus making out, not a musical trious Dane in October 1601, when Kepler was ap- harmony, as he once supposed, in these celestial obpointed to succeed him as the imperial mathematician,jects, but a mathematical unity and fellowship quite with a salary of fifteen hundred gulden per annum. as sublime and wonderful. This law was given to the If this salary had been regularly paid, Kepler would world in a work entitled Harmonices Mundi, which he have been a happy man; but the government finances published in 1619, and dedicated to James I. of Engwere in a bad state, and Kepler could only now and land. We grieve to say that in this volume there are then obtain a little money at the sacrifice of half his also contained some of the most monstrous fancies time in court attendance. To induce the emperor to that ever entered the brain of a living man; as, for continue to patronise astronomy, he was obliged to instance, that the globe which we inhabit is a sentient gratify him by acting as an astrologer, and he was being, capable of being roused to passion (storms and fain to cast nativities for any one who would employ earthquakes being the expressions of its rage) by such him, for the sake of daily bread. These proceedings, offences as throwing a stone into a lake or a deep cleft, together with the countenance which he seems to give as a bull or an elephant would be roused by a straw to astrology in some of his writings, have caused him tickling its ear. Nor was his idea of the analogy beto be represented as a believer in that false science; tween the planetary arrangement and musical tones much less ridiculous, Saturn and Jupiter being reprebut, when his writings are rightly read, we can see that he regarded astrology, and the necessity he was sented in his scheme of mundane harmony as taking under of dabbling in it, with the loathing of a vir- the bass, Mars the tenor, the Earth and Venus the tuous and philosophic mind. Struggling with poverty, counter-tenor, and Mercury the treble. The terms in obliged, as it were, to dance before the Philistines for which he speaks of his third law show, however, how sport, delicate in health, and of weakly eyesight, pro- deeply he felt a real triumph in science. "It is now vided only with rude and defective instruments, he eighteen months," says he, "since I got the first persevered in his investigations of a science, in which, glimpse of light, three months since the dawn, very we must remember, some of the most important few days since the unveiled sun, most admirable to truths, as gravitation and the arrangement of the gaze upon, burst upon me. Nothing holds me; I planets, were as yet unascertained. It now appears will indulge in my sacred fury; I will triumph pretty clearly," that, throughout his whole career, he over mankind by the honest confession that I have also met with no small amount of trouble on account stolen the golden vases of the Egyptians, to build of his religious views; not that he doubted any of the up a tabernacle for my God far away from the conprime doctrines of Christianity, but merely disavowed fines of Egypt. If you forgive me, I rejoice; if you are angry, can bear it; the die is cast; the book a particular local view of Christ's body in the Euchais written to be read either now or by posterity, I rist, and patronised the Gregorian calendar. care not which it may well wait a century for a reader, as God has waited six thousand years for an observer." At the conclusion of the work he thus expresses himself: "I give thee thanks, Lord and Creator, that thou hast given me joy through thy creation, for I have been ravished with the work of thy hands. I have revealed unto mankind the glory of thy works, as far as my limited spirit could conceive thy infinitude. Should I have brought forward any thing that is unworthy of thee, or should I have sought my own fame, be graciously pleased to forgive it me." With reference to the opposition which his discoveries had met with, he adds :-"The day will soon break, when pious simplicity will be ashamed of in the book of nature as well as in the Holy Scriptures, its blind superstition, when men will recognise truth and rejoice in the two revelations."

* Baron Breitschwert's Life and Labours of Kepler. Stuttgart. 1834.

After this period, Kepler chiefly devoted himself to the completion of the Rudolphine Tables, and to the steps necessary to accomplish their publication. The resources of the empire were at this time engrossed by the thirty years' war, and Kepler found the greatest difficulty in obtaining the means of giving this splendid production to the world. His own salary was also constantly in arrear, and he and his family suffered much at this period from poverty. Nevertheless, it was at his own expense that the types necessary for the tables were cast. This great work at length appeared in 1627, and completed his fame. Amongst the honours paid to him on account of it, he received a present of a gold chain from the Grand Duke of Tuscany, probably through the influence of Galileo. Soon after, by the permission of the emperor, whose patronage had never been steadily lucrative to Kepler, he attached himself to the service of Wallenstein, Duke of Friedland, the celebrated imperialist commander in the thirty years' war, who was at all periods of his life a firm believer in astrology. Wallenstein probably desired to have Kepler near him, that he might interpret the bearing of the stars upon his extraordinary fortunes, and it was no new idea to the philosopher to look to the false science for the means of studying the true. Although comparatively well supported in this situation, Kepler was anxious to realise a large arrear due to him by the imperial treasury, and for this purpose he went to Ratisbon in 1630. The fatigue of the journey and the vexation attending its ill success brought on a fatal illness, and Kepler died in that city on the 15th of November, in the fifty-ninth year of his age, leaving his family in very poor circumstances, though it appears that one of his children afterwards obtained payment of some part of his claims on the government. He was buried in St Peter's Church, under a tomb inscribed with his name, which not long after was destroyed in the course of the wars then raging; but, since the beginning of the present century, a very elegant monument has

Whether the instrument of words she use, Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues." Conscious of this, painters have no doubt resorted frequently to the poets for subjects; as, for example, to Spenser, whose taste for allegory and personification has rendered his "Fairy Queen" nothing else than a vast gallery of magnificent pictures. But it appears to us that there are other poets, rich in treasures of a similar description, who have, as yet at least, been in a great measure overlooked by artists. To one case, in particular, we shall point attention on the present occasion.

The "Hyperion" of Keats abounds in materials for works of art of the highest order. The fancy of that poet seems to have been vivid to a wonderful degree. Every form and scene described by him, is presented with such distinctness as to make it apparent that he must have been able, in the first place, to call each up before his own mind's eye in its minutest shades and lineaments. In "Hyperion," his fancy had to work on grand objects, namely, the Titans-the oldest gods of the Greek mythology-beings gigantic in form and terrible in strength. The opening lines of the poem present a noble picture, equal in many respects to Dante's sketch of Ugolino, which both Reynolds and Fuseli thought worthy of embodiment on the canvass. It is the portrait of the god-chief of the Titans, Saturn, whom his own son, Jupiter, had just dethroned :

66 Deep in the shady sadness of a vale

Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon and eve's one star,
Sat grey-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair;
Forest on forest hung about his head,
Like cloud on cloud

*

A stream went voiceless by, still deaden'd more By reason of his fallen divinity, Spreading a shade; the Naiad 'mid her reeds Press'd her cold finger closer to her lips. Along the margin-sand large footmarks went. No further than to where his feet had strayed, And slept there since. Upon the sodden ground His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed." The fallen giant-god-the gloom, the forests, the large foot-prints, the deadened stream, and the lip-pressing Naiad these certainly form a verbal picture, at least, of a sublime order.

Comes there to Saturn a Titaness, a goddess of the infant world

"With face as large as that of Memphian sphynx,
Pedestal'd, haply, in a palace court,

When sages looked to Egypt for their lore.
But oh! how unlike marble was that face!

How beautiful, if Sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self!"
She strives to arouse Saturn, but in vain ; and then-

"in tears

She touch'd her fair large forehead to the ground,
Just where her falling hair might be outspread
A soft and silken mat for Saturn's feet.
One moon, with alteration slow, had shed

Her silver seasons four upon the night, And still these two were postur'd motionless, Like natural sculpture in cathedral cavern." The genius of the poet seems to us finely displayed here, in his equalising the duration of their motionlessness, "one moon," with the grandeur of the parties. Proportions are splendidly maintained. Altogether, this scene seems to afford materials for a second great picture. Passing over the fine sketch given of the yet undispossessed god of the sun, Hyperion, when, frenzied with dread of the fate which had befallen his brother-Titans

"Along a dismal rack of clouds, Upon the boundaries of day and night,

Ile stretch'd himself in grief and radiance faint,"

we come to another, yielding noble scope for the pen-
cil of the artist. The band of the bruised Titans is
described as lying in a dark and vast mountainous
recess, in the state in which they were left at the time
of their overthrow. Around and above them--
"Crag jutting forth to crag, and rocks that seemed
Ever as if just rising from a sleep,
Forehead to forehead held their monstrous horns;
And thus in thousand hugest phantasies
Made a fit roofing to this nest of woe.

Instead of thrones, hard flint they sate upon-
Couches of rugged stone, and slaty ridge,
Stubborn'd with iron."

The unfortunate group are described generally in imagery which may give to the painter a striking idea of their bulk and dreariness

"Scarce images of life-one here, one there,

Lay vast and edgewise; like a dismal cirque
Of Druid stones upon a forlorn moor."

vividly painted, that, even in an isolated form, the lines will be appreciated. The poet speaks of "many paths"

"all leading pleasantly

To a wide lawn, whence one could only see
Stems thronging all around between the swell
Of tuft and slanting branches; who could tell
The freshness of the space of heaven above,

Edged round with dark tree-tops!-through which a dove
Would often beat its wings, and often, too,
A little cloud would move across the blue."

This would make a variegated little painting by itself,
were the green lawn, the dark branchy fringe, the
blue sky, the dove, and the little cloud, all given as
tastefully on the canvass as here in words; but from
the poet might be obtained, as has been hinted, many
other rich accessories, in the shape of "troops of little
children garlanded," and damsels and shepherds, with
the charioted Endymion, their pastoral prince, all

Fine descriptions, again, are given of the posture of aiding in the sacrifice to Pan. individuals

Next Cottus; prone he lay, chin uppermost,
As though in pain; for still upon the flint
He ground severe his skull, with open mouth,
And eyes at open working."

There are others, some of them Titanesses; but we

cannot carry our extracts further. If an artist wished another part of the poem, and he will find it. We shall for light to irradiate this gloomy scene, let him take give a long extract here; for it seems to us that every artist must be delighted with the manner in which the painter-poet has cast illumination on these fallen giants in their rugged retreat. Saturn had previously joined them, and the huge Enceladus is "on his feet," attempting to rouse them to vengeance. He cries

"And be ye mindful that Hyperion,

Our brightest brother, still is undisgraced--
Hyperion, lo! his radiance is here!"

All eyes were on Enceladus's face,
And they beheld, while still Hyperion's name
Flew from his lips up to the vaulted rocks,
A pallid gleam across his features stern:
Not savage, for he saw full many a god
Wroth as himself. He look'd upon them all,
And in each face he saw a gleam of light,
But splendider in Saturn's, whose hoar locks
Shone like the bubbling foam about a keel,
When the prow sweeps into a midnight cove.
In pale and silver silence they remain'd,
Till suddenly a splendour, like the morn,
Pervaded all the beetling gloomy steeps,
All the sad spaces of oblivion,

And every gulf and every chasm old,
And every height, and every sullen depth,
Voiceless, or hoarse with loud tormented streams:
And all the everlasting cataracts,

And all the headlong torrents far and near,
Mantled before in darkness and huge shade,
Now saw the light and made it terrible.

It was Hyperion :-a granite peak

His bright feet touch'd, and there he staid to view
The misery his brilliance had betray'd

To the most hateful seeing of itself.
Golden his hair, of short Numidian curi,
Regal his shape majestic, a vast shade
In midst of his own brightness, like the bulk
Of Memnon's image at the set of sun
To one who travels from the dusking East:
Sighs, too, as mournful as that Memnon's harp,
He utter'd, while his hands, contemplative,
He press'd together, and in silence stood.
Despondence seized again the fallen gods
At sight of the dejected King of Day,

And many hid their faces from the light."

Here is certainly a great artistical subject. The gloomy grandeur of that rocky recess, its giant occupants, Hyperion on the peak, with his encircling and emitted radiance illuminating the erect Enceladus, Saturn's grey hairs, and every salient point in the scene-surely all the accessories of a noble picture are here presented.

Turning from the grand to the beautiful, how many fine pictures may we not find in the gallery of the same poet! Look at this slight passing sketch of a lover and his mistress :

"And as he to the court-yard pass'd along,

Each third step did lie pause, and listen'd oft
If he could hear his lady's matin-song,

Or the light whisper of her footstep soft; And as he thus over his passion hung, He heard a laugh fall musical aloft ; When, looking up, he saw her features bright Smile through an in-door lattice all delight." Again, if any artist is fond of personifications-though that style has become somewhat unfashionable, and pre-existing works do certainly occupy the field in some measure-what a delicious series of sketches might be made from the following four representations of Autumn, in so many different yet all equally appropriate positions !—

"Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours." If any artist be partial to forest scenes, the opening of "Endymion" contains an exquisite picture of a Sacrifice to Pan, on the woody slopes of Latmos. The sacrificers and their altar must be passed over, but the open lawn, where the ceremony took place, is so

In the second book of "Endymion," there is a description of Adonis sleeping, which contains materials for an exquisite painting, but is too long to transcribe. The description of the witch Circe, with her victims around her, transformed all to brutes, is also a fine sketch of another kind, though an imitation of old Homer

"An echo of him in the north-wind sung." But, indeed, were we to point out all the passages of Keats which might yield hints to painters, we might

quote one-half of his poems. He cannot mention sun or moon, sea or sky, without noticing some feature of a picturesque kind; for he had viewed them all withi the eye of a painter. For example, observe the passage where, addressing the moon, he says

"The sleeping kine,

Couch'd in thy brightness, dream of fields divine:
Innumerable mountains rise, and rise,
Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes;
And yet thy benediction passeth not
One obscure hiding place, one little spot
Where pleasure may be sent; the nested wren
Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken,
And from beneath a sheltering ivy-leaf
Takes glimpses of thee; thou art a relief
To the poor patient oyster, where it sleeps
Within its pearly house. The mighty deeps,
The monstrous sea is thine-the myriad sea!
Oh, Moon! far spooming Ocean bows to thee,
And Tellus feels her forehead's cumbrous load."

General as the description here is, it might nevertheless give hints to the artist engaged on a moonlight scene.

It is not every poet, nor even every great poet, who attends so closely to the picturesque in nature, as to yield materials like these to the painter. Wordsworth, bard of nature as he is, examines her not so much to paint her beauties for the mere sake of their loveliness, as to extract from them some moral, bearing on humanity. Sir Walter Scott possessed a most inventive fancy, but it was bent and biassed in a peculiar direction by his antique and chivalrous predilections. He is full of pictures of that description; and, indeed, in his case the painters have made liberal use of the opportunities placed in their way. To this subject we may take occasion to return.

THE TWO WAYS OF LIVING.

A STORY OF HUMBLE LIFE.

"WELL," said pretty Helen Thomson to her sister Jane," I'd scorn to marry a man because he'd got a bit of money."

"So would I," answered Jane, in a quiet voice. "Why, what are you going to marry David Cairns for, but for his money?" asked Helen.

"I'm going to marry him because I like him, and because I expect he'll make me a good husband," replied Jane.

But would you marry him if he had no money?" inquired Helen.

No, I would not," responded Jane. "I've seen enough of people marrying to live in worse poverty than they were in before."

"I knew you wouldn't," answered Helen, triumphantly; "and that's what I call marrying a man for his money."

"I might as well say, Helen, that you are going to marry Richard Mills for his legs; for I'm sure you wouldn't marry him if he had none," said Jane.

"Oh, that's quite a different thing," replied Helen, laughing. "Nobody would marry a man without legs. He couldn't earn his living if he had no legs."

"I don't know that," returned Jane; "he might get a very good living by begging perhaps. His want of legs might be a fortune to him in that way." "But who'd marry a beggar?" said Helen. "Not I, certainly," replied Jane, "if I can help it; and all I seek in marrying a man who has a little something to begin the world with, is to put as good a chance as I can betwixt me and beggary."

"Many that began with nothing have done just as well as those that are so over-cautious," said Helen. "They may sometimes, where they have great luck," replied Jane.

"Luck!" said Helen; "why, look at the Davisons; what particular luck have they had? and yet how well they are doing; and I'm sure they had nothing to begin with."

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Why, they have had the luck never to be ill, for one thing," answered Jane;" and he has had the luck never to be out of work, for another. But suppose either of these circumstances had happened, and they may happen yet, how would they have got on ?"