580 CARLYLE. HALIBURTON.

MOTHERWELL.

In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream. Heroes and Hero - Worship. The Hero as a Man of Letters. The true University of these days is a Collection of Books.

Ibid.

One life, a little gleam of time between two Eternities.

Ibid.

Adversity is sometimes hard upon a man; but for one man who can stand prosperity there are a hundred that will stand adversity.

Ibid.

THOMAS C. HALIBURTON. 1796-1865.

I want you to see Peel, Stanley, Graham, Sheil, Russell, Macaulay, Old Joe, and so on. They are all upper-crust here.1 Sam Slick in England. Chap. xxiv.

Circumstances alter cases.

The Old Judge. Chap.

WILLIAM MOTHERWELL. 1797-1835.

I've wandered east, I've wandered west,

Through many a weary way;

But never, never can forget
The love of life's young day.

And we, with Nature's heart in tune,
Concerted harmonies.

Jeannie Morrison

Ibid.

not upper ten thou

1 Those families, you know, are our upper-crust, sand - COOPER: The Ways of the flour, chap. vi. (1850.)

At present there is no distinction among the upper ten thousand of the

city.N P. WILLIS: Necessity for a Promenade Drive.

2 "Sam Slick" first appeared in a weekly paper of Nova Scotia, 1835.

THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. 1797-1839.

I'd be a butterfly born in a bower,

Where roses and lilies and violets meet.

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

The rose that all are praising

Long, long ago.

Is not the rose for me.

The Rose that all are praising.

Oh pilot, 't is a fearful night!

There's danger on the deep.

Fear not, but trust in Providence,
Wherever thou may'st be.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder:1
Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!

The Pilot.

Ibid.

Isle of Beauty.

1 I find that absence still increases love. - CHARLES HOPKINS: To C. C. Distance sometimes endears friendship, and absence sweeteneth it. — HOWELL: Familiar Letters, book i. sect. i. No. 6.

582 BAYLY.- DRUMMOND. — CLARKE. — LOVER.

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,

The holly-branch shone on the old oak wall.

The Mistletoe Bough.

Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,

And many friends I've met;

Not one fair scene or kindly smile

Can this fond heart forget.

Oh, steer my Bark to Erin's Isle

THOMAS DRUMMOND.1 1797-1840.

Property has its duties as well as its rights.2

Letter to the Landlords of Tipperary.

MCDONALD CLARKE. 1798-1842.

Whilst twilight's curtain spreading far,
Was pinned with a single star.3

Death in Disguise. Line 227. (Boston edition, 1833.)

SAMUEL LOVER. 1797-1868.

A baby was sleeping,

Its mother was weeping.

The Angel's Whisper.

Reproof on her lips, but a smile in her eye. Rory O' More. For drames always go by conthraries, my dear."

1 Captain Drummond was the inventor of the Drummond light.
2 DISRAELI: Sybil, book i. chap. xi.

Mrs. Child says: "He thus describes the closing day":-
Now twilight lets her curtain down,

Ibid.

And pins it with a star.

4 See Scott, page 482.

5 See Middleton, page 172.

1

"Then here goes another," says he, "to make sure,
For there's luck in odd numbers," says Rory O'More.
Rory O' More.

There was a place in childhood that I remember well,
And there a voice of sweetest tone bright fairy tales did

There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea,
Or in the wide desert where no life is found.

Sonnet. Silence.

We watch'd her breathing through the night,
Her breathing soft and low,

As in her breast the wave of life
Kept heaving to and fro.

Our very hopes belied our fears,
Our fears our hopes belied;

We thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died.

The Death-Bed.

Ibid

I remember, I remember

But evil is wrought by want of thought,
As well as want of heart.

The Lady's Dream.

Oh would I were dead now,

Or

up in my bed now,

To cover my head now,

And have a good cry!

Straight down the crooked lane,
And all round the square.

For my part, getting up seems not so easy

By half as lying.

A Table of Errate.

A Plain Direction,

Morning Meditations.

A man that's fond precociously of stirring

Must be a spoon.

Seem'd washing his hands with invisible soap

Ibid.

In imperceptible water. Miss Kilmansegg. Her Christening.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed!

That heaven upon earth to the weary head! Her Dream.

He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
Tormenting himself with his prickles.

1 See Burton, page 185.

Ibid.