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visited. In point of fact, it makes them

I LOVE THE SPRING. hate what you wish them to love. This is

BY HELEN HETHERINGTON. "morbid sympathy."

England is a wealthy country. There is I love the Spring; the gentle Spring, money enough in it to regenerate the length

When Nature's smiles are blithe and free; and breadth of the land, and to make all And merry birds with rapture sing sorrowful hearts happy.

But there is no

Their softest, sweetest melody.

Cold biting winds have passed away, disposition towards this.

The bitter storm; the ceaseless rain ; Everybody is selfish, cold, and indifferent. And Zephyrs whisper as they play, -The world seems to be turned topsy-turvy. " Spring, gentle Spring, is come again." If a man be convicted on the clearest evidence of murdering his wife-or the wife her I love the Spring; the Summer flowers husband, the most strenuous efforts now-d

May wear a brighter, gayer dress, days are made to rescue them from punish- But lilies pearled with passing showers, ment. Nay, in the very face of the judges, Sweet vi'lets peep where'er we stray,

Have greater claim to loveliness. jurymen will give verdicts quite against the

And daisies dance upon the plain, evidence adduced. In the late case of the While laughing blue-bells nod and say, villain Kirwan, who murdered his poor wife, “Spring, gentle Spring, is come again.” the morbid sympathy evinced to prove him “innocent ” almost exceeds the power of be. I love to wander through the vale, lief. This ought not to be. The man was

When merry warblers sweetly sing ; a fiend, and yet—not executed ! Elizabeth

And pretty ring-doves tell a tale Vickers, too, tried for murdering her master And when at eve I listen long,

Of joys that bloom with lovely Spring; at Brixton,--morbid sympathy has found HER

To Philomel's enchanting strain, " not guilty !" She gets all his money too!! Methinks I hear, in that lov'd song,

With the example of Mrs. Harriet Beecher“ Spring, gentle Spring, is come again." Stowe before them, let our fair country, I love the Spring; a rich perfume, women arise and exert themselves. Charity begins “at home.” We need not wander The fields their brightest garb resume,

Is mingled with the cheering breeze; far away for a theme. England's “cabins”

And beauty clothes the forest trees. “ slaves "-already but too well The Nect'rine, Peach, and Almond bloom, acquainted with “Uncle Tom."

Great as

May still be seen in Nature's train ; may be the horrors of slavery in America - And buzzing bees dispel the gloom, and we shudder to read of them yet are there By humming “Spring is come again!' equally horrible cases of slavery here. They may differ in kind, it is true; but they I love to roam at dawn of day, differ nothing in intensity.

To see the sun rise o'er the hill ;

Where dew-drops glisten on the spray, English slavery is an expression little And softly flows the murmuring rill. used; but a well-compiled work under that Then, whilst I listen with delight very title, would form a volume far exceed- To lowing herds, o'er hill and plain, ing in size that of “Uncle Tom's Cabin,' The merry Cuckoo, in its flight, and be readily acknowledged as a national Sings - Lovely Spring is come again!" blessing.

I love the Spring ;-the Lark's soft lay If only one billionth part of the money Awakens thoughts of happiness ; lavished daily on silly tom-fooleries, which And by the stream where sunbeams play, perish with the using, were set aside for this Are pleasures words can ne'er express. good work,—what a happy nation we should Oh, who can fail to love and prize be ! whilst our women God bless them!

The countless joys we thus obtain! would be worshipped and held in everlasting

Hark! every voice in Nature cries, –

"SPRING, LOVELY SPRING, IS COME AGAIN!" remembrance.

1

hold many

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COUNTRY PLEASURES & COUNTRY DANGERS, EXCELLENCE OF FORGIVENESS.

MY DEAR SIR,- It's all very well of you Nothing is more moving to a man than the to write so sweetly about the country, and to spectacle of reconciliation. Our weaknesses are invite us young city fellows, and west-enders, thus indemnified and are not too costly—being the down to sip the morning dew "just to give price we pay for the blessing of forgiveness. The archangel, who has never felt anger, has reason

us an appetite." You talk, too, about walks to envy the man who subdnes it. When thou in the fields, fair companions, visits to farmforgivest, the man that hast pierced thy heart houses, &c.,-enough to turn one's head ! stands to thee in the relation of the sea-worm

But while you thus write-hear how that perforates the shell of the muscle, which another annotates by way of caution. He straightway closes the wouud with a pearl.

says :

“ There's a world of buxom beauty, young I do? I want to love the country, but fear fellows, flourishing in the shades of the to risk the danger that lurks among the farmcountry. 'Aye, marry is there ! Above houses. Will you kindly give me a hint ? all things, avoid farm-houses. Farm-houses

Yours,

TYRO. are dangerous places. As you are thinking [Your question is an odd one; and had only of sheep or of curds, you may be sud- you lived in the country so long as we have denly shot through by a pair of bright eyes, done, you needed not to have asked it. and melted away in a bewitching smile that come down, Sir, and get "used” to the sight you never dreamt of till the mischief was of these lovely faces. What would the done.

country be without them? Never mind the “In towns, and theatres, and thronged as-mysterious magic ” lurking beneath a witchsemblies of the rich and titled fair, you are on ing smile. If, after beholding it once, you your guard; you know what you are exposed should require our aid-you will not—we will to, and put on your breast-plate, and pass then gladly assist you.) through the most deadly onslaught of beauty --safe and sound. But in those sylvan re

POETS AND VERSIFIERS. treats, dreaming of nightingales, and hearing only the lowing of oxen, you are taken by ALL men, women, and children, are manisurprise. Out steps a fair creature, crosses festly poets-except those who write verses. a glade, leaps a stile ; you start, you stand But why that exception ? Because they alone by, lost in wonder and silent admiration. make no use of their minds. You take out your tablets to write a sonnet Versifiers--and wespeak but ofthem-arethe on the return of the nymphs and dryads to sole living creatures that are not also creators. earth, when up comes John Tomkins, and The inferior animals, as we are pleased to call says, “It's only the farmer's daughter !'

them,-and as indeed in some respects they What I have farmers such daughters now are, modify matter much in their imaginations. a-days?'

Rode ye never a horse by night through a " Yes : I tell you they have such daughters forest? That most poetical of quadrupeds —those farm-houses are dangerous places. sees a spirit in every stump; else why by Let no man with a poetical imagination such sudden start should he throw his maswhich is but another name for a very tindery ter over his ears ? heart, flatter himself with fancies of the calm The blackbird on the tip-top of that pinedelights of the country; with the serious idea tent is a poet, else never could his yellow bill of sitting with the farmer in his old-fashioned so salute with rapturous orisons the re-ascendchimney corner, and hearing him talk of corn ing sun, as he flings over the woods a lustre and mutton; of joining him in the pensive plea- agai n gorgeous from the sea. And what sures of a pipe, and brown jug of October ; induces those stock-doves, think ye, to fill of listening to the gossip of the comfortable the heart of the grove with soft, deep, low, farmer's wife; of the parson and his family, lonely, far-away, mournful, yet happyof his sermons and his tenth pig. Over a thunder? What, but love and joy, and delight fragrant cup of young hyson, or whilst you and desire ? In one word, poetry. Poetry, are lapt in the delicious luxuries of custards which confines the universe to that wedded and whipt creams, in walks a fair vision of pair, within the sanctuary of the pillared wondrous witchery; and. with a curtsey and shade impervious to meridian sunbeams, and smile of most winning and mysterious magic, brightens and softens into splendor and into takes her seat just opposite. It is the far- snow divine the plumage beautifying the mer's daughter! A lovely girl of eighteen. creatures in their bliss, as breast to breast Fair as the lily, fresh as May-dew, rosy as they crood-en-doo on their shallow nest. the rose itself; graceful as the peacock Thus all men, women, and children, birds, perched on the pales there by the window; beasts, and fishes, are poets,—-except versifiers, sweet as a posy of violets and “clove gilli- Oysters are poets. Nobody will deny that, vers ;” modest as early morning, and amiable whoever in the neighborhood of Preston-pans as the imagination of Desdemona or Gertrude has beheld them passionately gaping, on their of Wyoming

native bed, for the flow of the tide coming “You are lost ! It's all over with you. I again to awaken all their energies from the wouldn't give an empty filbert or a frog-bitten wide Atlantic. Nor less poetical are snails. strawberry for your peace of mind, if that See them in the dewy stillness of eve, as they glittering creature be not as pitiful as she is salute the crescent Dian ; with horns humbler fair.

And that comes of going into the indeed, but no less pointed than her own. country, out of the way of vanity and temp- The beetle, “ against the traveller borne in tation; and fancying farm-houses only nice heedless hum,” if we knew all his feelings in old-fashioned places of old-fashioned content that soliloqay, might safely be pronounced nent.-Young fellows! again I say—beware!" a Wordsworth. Now, Mr. Editor, what can 1-what shall Thus are we all poets, high and low,

VERY

poets.

except versifiers.
They, poor creatures, are

THE BLOOD OF ANIMALS.
a peculiar people, impotent of good works.
Ears have they, but they hear not, -eyes

IN A

INTERESTING LECTURE have they, but they will not see. Nay, recently delivered by BRANSBY Cooper, naturalists assert that they have brains and before the “ Royal College of Surgeons, spinal marrow; also, organs of speech. Yet, the subject of " Animal grafting"-a pet with all that organisation, they have but crotchet of the immortal Joun HUNTER, little feeling, and no thought; and by a feeble was introduced, with the following curious and monotonous fizz, are you made aware, in illustrations. the twilight, of the useless existence of the John Hunter, said the lecturer, more obscure ephemerals !

clearly recognised the great importance of These remarks are intended more particu- this fluid than any physiologist who had larly for the eye of the gentleman alluded to gone before him. His views with respect in our first article (see page 193). Versifiers, to the importance of the blood to the he will see, are mere gingling jobbers, not animal economy, led him to the belief that

We entreat him to mark well the the blood was endowed with a life of its own, difference between talking, rhyming, and more or less independent of the vitality feeling

of the animal in which it circulated. The

following experiments seemed to have been ECHO.

instituted with the view of establishing the

fact, that the blood of a living animal could, How sweet the answer Echo makes

even under the artificial stimulus induced by To Music at Night!

the introduction of the part of another animal When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, into itself-by ingrafting, nourish and support And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,

it, so as to convert it into a part of itself. Goes answ'ring light.

Hunter transplanted a human tooth to the Yet Love hath echoes truer far,

comb of a cock, where it not only became And far more sweet,

fixed,, but actually, became part of the Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star,

organic structure of the cock's comb; he Of horn, or lute, or soft guitar,

proved this by injecting the cock's head, The songs repeat.

and, on dissection (as the preparation on the

table illustrated), the blood vessels filled 'Tis when the sigh in youth sincere,

with the coloring matter of the injection And only then,

were traced into the capillaries of the living The sigh that's breath'd for“ to hear, Is by that one, that “only" dear,

membrane of the cavity of the tooth. Breath'd back again !

The most striking instance of this incorTHOMAS MOORE. poration of a foreign organic body with a

living tissue, was shewn by the learned

orator in another preparation made by the SPRING AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS.

immortal Hunter, in which the spur of a

cock had been removed from its leg and Spring is coming, Spring is coming! With her sunshine and her shower;

transplanted to its comb, where it not only Heaven is ringing with the singing

continued to grow, but had acquired a far Of the birds in brake and bower.

greater size than the spur ever acquired in Buds are filling, leaves are swelling,

its natural situation. The result of this Flower on field, and bloom on tree,

experimeut involved a very interesting phy. O'er the earth, and air, and ocean,

siological inquiry-how the capillaries, which Nature holds her jubilee.

were destined by nature merely to furnish Soft, then, stealing, comes a feeling

blood fitted for the elaboration of the tissues O'er my bosom tenderly,

of the comb, should, under the stimulus of Sweet I ponder as I wander, For my musings are of Thee!

necessity, to use Hunter's own expression,

be rendered competent to eliminate the Spring is coming, Spring is coming! horny matter of the spur, even to the extent With her mornings fresh and light; of an hypertrophied condition. With her noon of chequer'd glory,

The orator then took an elaborate review Sky of blue and clouds of white.

of the digestive organs of various animals ; Calm, grey nightfalls, when the light falls

and found that, in certain instances, they From the star-bespangled sky, While the splendor, pale and tender,

were capable of becoming modified to meet Of the young moon gleams on high.

contingencies to which an animal might be Still at morn, and noon, and even,

exposed. By this change the animal might Spring is full of joy for me ;

be rendered capable of existing and even For I ponder as I wander,

thriving on a kind of food entirely of an And my musings are of TREE!

opposite character to that originally intended Dublin University Magazine. by nature for its support and nourishment;

one

DAISIE S. and illustrating which, Mr. Cooper mentioned that Hunter fed a sea gull (naturally a bird

Fair and peaceful daisies ! of prey) with grain, and after twelve months

Smiling in the grass ; he destroyed the bird, and, upon examination,

Who hath sung your praises ? found that its normally membranous stomach

Poets by you pass, had become much thickened; and so changed And I, alone, am left to celebrate your mass. in character, as to resemble in appearance the gizzard of the graminivorous fowl rather In the summer morning, than that of a carnivorous bird.

Through the fields ye shine, Another striking instance of the periodical Joyfully adorning modification of the digestive apparatus, was

Earth with smiles divine,

And found by Hunter in the crop of the pigeon

pour
from sunny hearts fresh gladness into

mine.
during the period of incubation. This crop,
which at other times was similar to that of

Lying in the meadows, birds in general, during incubation assumes a

Like the milky way, glandular character, which enables it, in

From nocturnal shadows addition to its ordinary function, to secrete

Glad to fall away, a milky fluid, which is ejected, and affords a And live a happy life in the wide light of day. nourishment for its young progeny; rendering

Bees about you humming, the crop, in fact, a kind of mammary gland.

Pile their yellow store ;

Winds in whispers coming,
FRESH AIR.

Teach you love's sweet lore

For your reluctant lips still worshipping the more We beg most cordially to commend to

Birds with music laden, our readers' notice, the following advice,

Shower their songs on you; given by an American orator. At no season

And the rustic maiden, could it be more appropriate than at the

Standing in the dew,present :-"Gentlemen aud ladies, open your By your alternate leaves tells if her love be true. windows-let in the fresh air. Light, phy

Little stars of glory, sical or moral, is not more essential to vision

From your amber eyes than air is to health and happiness. Yet

No inconstant story how careful are most of us to exclude it!

Of her love should rise; You close up the windows, nail list around And yet “ He loves me not !" is oft the sad surthe doors, and appear to do all in your power

prise. to exclude Heaven's free gift of fresh air ; and the reason why people are not smothered

Crowds of milk-white blossoms,

Noon's concentrated beams is that the air is so subtle, it works its way through every little crevice, so that it is

Glowing in your bosoms; almost impossible to get it shut out alto. In Heaven, I think the light of flowers immortal

So, by living streams gether. But, if people do not get themselves

gleams. quite suffocated, they continue to get pale, stupid, nervous, and heavy headed for want

When your date is over, of pure air, which is so anxious to force itself

Peacefully ye fade, into their rooms, but which they contrive to

With the fragrant clover, keep barred out.

And sweet grasses laidWhat would you think of a man, coming In odors for a pall, beneath the orchard shade. down the river, on a raft, who would get a

Happy, happy daisies! basin of water and keep it for weeks to wash

Would I were like you himself every day, when the broad river was

Pure from human praises, running level with his feet? You would say

Fresh with early dew, he was a fool. Are you any wiser, who have And ever in my heart to Heaven's clear sunshine miles deep of fresh air above you, and yet do

true! not allow yourself more than a few square feet to be used over and over again hundreds

ENGLISH BEAUTY. of times ? I wish every one of you knew what a curious piece of machinery your lungs "Life, long and happy, to English beauty!" and hearts are, and how well the atmosphere says Mrs. S. C. Hall. Amen! say we. is adapted to our use.

Despite all that has been or ever will be If you are afraid to have the fresh air said of its fragility, its dangers, its destrucblow upon you while

you are asleep, break a tion, it is a blesssed thing to look upon and pane of glass out of the top of the window live amongst. until you get used to fresh air; and then a Talk of its fading ! it never fades. It is stream of it hard enough to blow the quilts but transferred from face to face. The bud off the bed will not hurt you.

comes forth as the blossom is perfected; and

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the bud bursts into blossom but to hide the susceptibility which so pitiful a person as WILLIAM falling leaves, fragrant amid the decay of the Smith of Norwich could rouse into passionate inparent flower

dignation; the whole sensitive nature which, even Then the beauties of our country, are so

in so quiet a sphere as the library at Keswick, at varied! The peasant girl, gifted with pearl how could these have stood the judicial browbeat

last yielded its possessor a prey to insanity, — like modesty, and the courtly maiden, set, as her birthright, in a golden circlet--the intel- ings and professional exasperations and wear and

tear of metropolitan legal existence ? lectual face beaming intelligence, and the

Let any literary man, with the gifts and sentiEnglish matron, proud as Cornelia of her ments of the genuine student, and who is disposed living jewels.

to grumble at the chagrins of his lot, ask himself Nor is the perfection of English beauty whether these would be fewer or less keen were confined to any class. In summer-time you he a surgeon or a merchant, --were he a competimeet it everywhere; by the hedge-rows, in tor of Mr. Pecksniff's, or doomed to be pitted the streets, in the markets, in the parks, at against the learned and eloquent Serjeant Buzfuz? watering places; at home, and abroad. At

This is well said ; quite to the point. If every turn, one meets some fair specimen of rigid inquiry be made, it will be found that living beanty. We are reflected in it, and no really deserving man, now-a-days, needs we get rude health by the contact.

perish for want of support, simply because

he is an author. Let him work with his " LITERARY PENSIONERS."

hands, as do other men equally worthy with

himself; and let him bear in mind the trite THE MISERABLE OUTCRY of certain lite- but true saying, --Aide toi, et le Ciel t'aidera. rary men about their “ hardships," and their We are quite of the old school;

and conignoble attempts to be admitted to pensions (!) sider that “ if a man will not work, neither are truly contemptible.

should he eat." This is good law, and should Whatever may have occurred in earlier be equally dealt out to all but those who are times, when the claims of literature were not

"incapables." properly recognised and rewarded, can have no reference to the sums now paid for mental

INDIAN SCENERY. labor. A recent pension granted to a public literary man, reminds us, although he is a The following graphic sketch, from the sad grumbler, that he has in his time rolled pen of a traveller in the East, cannot fail to in money. Few persons have been better interest our readers. It bears the impress remunerated, or better enabled to live in com. of truth throughout :plete affluence. If his expenditure was un

Our Eastern land is a gorgeous one, but it is a duly extravagant,—which it was, who but himself can be to blame? This whining, artist-the“ tesselated pages of an album,” than

picture land. It better suits the portfolio of an puling, outcry, we repeat, is disgusting; and the personal contest of hand and foot, or coustituwe hope to hear no more of it. Meantime, tion. It is fair to look upon, but let us see it in a let us append the very sensible remarks of a diorama. It has all the capabilities of producing contemporary (the "Critic), bearing hard a superb and showy painting, or series of paintupon the same subject :

ings; but it will not do to treal those sunny

tracts, to wander among those glittering scenes, A great deal of exaggeration and absurdity has that look so well on canvas. The sunbeams that been vented, especially in a certain recent" Auto- impart life to the picture, give death or delirium to biography," with respect to the “calamities” of the traveller who dares their influence; and those authorship by profession. Much of the pain which grotesque groups of trees and depths of jungleis said to attach exclusively to that condition of bright with flowers and birds, whose very plumage life, is mitigated by counterbalancing advantages seems a flower-bed--afford shelter to beasts of or pleasures ; while still more of it will be found, prey, and reptiles whose venom is as powerful and on close inquiry, to be no necessary concomitant deadly as their colors are beautiful. of literary pursuits, but, in a greater or less degree There are squirrels sporting before my door. I to accompany all the forms of industry cultivated love those graceful little creatures—so wild, so in a state of society so highly complex and arti- bollly shy, so untameably-regardless of the enficial as is our own.

dearments of man! Parroquets, with green feaWhen, towards the close of his laborious liter-thers and roseate bills, are fluttering noisily among ary life, ROBERT SOUTaey, indulging in a train the cocoa-trees, with a mad sort of rompishness of retrospective meditation, endeavored to sum up allied to intoxication. They are delighted, no what literature had done for him, he chronicled doubt, with the sudden shower which has só rethe result of his reflections in the question, - freshingly cooled the air ; or perhaps they have "Would. I have been

a happier man har I been been banquetting on the seeds of the cotton-plant; all my life arguing in Westminster Hall ?" and which if Pomet, a botanist of other years, is to it needs no great acquaintance with the character be credited, fuddle the parroquets. or temperament of men like SOUTHEY to enable The oleander scents and beautifies the little any one to answer for him "No!" The temper garden plot before me, and the wild plants, that which was ruffled by the sarcasms of Byron; the spring profusely around, are full of beauty,

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