With the plain magic of true reason's light,1
He chased out of our sight,

Nor suffered men to be misled

By the vain shadows of the dead;

To graves, from whence it rose, the conquered phantom fled.
From words, which are but pictures of the thought-
Though we our thoughts from them perversely drew-
To things, the mind's right object, he it brought:
Like foolish birds to painted grapes we flew
He sought and gathered for our use the true.
From these, and all long errors of the way
In which our wandering predecessors went,
And like the old Hebrews many years did stray
In deserts but of small extent,

Bacon, like Moses, led us forth at last;

The barren wilderness he passed,

Did on the very border stand

Of the blest promised land,

And from the mountain top of his exalted wit,
Saw it himself, and showed us it.

Cowley.

THE EVE OF THE BATTLE.2

THERE was a sound of revelry by night,3
And Belgium's capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell;

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell !

1 Reason's light, &c.-i. e. the simple magic of true reason's light dissipated the misty phantom of Authority;-the thought is here very boldly and vividly developed.

2 The battle of Quatre Bras is here referred to, not that of Waterloo, which took place two days after.

3 On the night previous to the action, a ball was given at Brussells, by the Duchess of Richmond. Most of the English officers were present, but retired -pursuant to directions previously received from the Duke of Wellington-at 10 o'clock, to take the posts assigned them.

Did
ye

not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street;

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;

No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet—
But hark!-that heavy sound breaks in once more,
As if the clouds its echo would repeat;

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!

Arm! arm! it is-it is-the cannon's opening roar !

Within a windowed niche of that high hall
Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear
That sound the first amidst the festival,
And caught its tone with death's prophetic ear;
And when they smiled because he deemed it near,
His heart more truly knew that peal too well
Which stretched his father on a bloody bier,1
And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell:
He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.
Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;
And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise?

And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed,
The mustering squadron and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum2
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,

Or whispering with white lips-"The foe! They come! they come!"

Jena.

The Duke of Brunswick's father received his death-wound at the battle of

2 Alarming drum-the drum beating to arms. Alarm is usually derived through the French à l'arme, from the Latin ad arma, to arms!

And wild and high the "Camerons' gathering" rose!
The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's1 hills
Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes:-
How in the noon of night that pibroch2 thrills,
Savage and shrill! But, with the breath which fills
Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers
With the fierce native daring which instils
The stirring memory of a thousand years;

And Evan's, Donald's3 fame, rings in each clansman's ears.

And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,
Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass,
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,

Over the unreturning brave-alas!

Ere evening to be trodden like the grass,

Which now beneath them, but above shall grow

In its next verdure, when this fiery mass

Of living valour, rolling on the foe

And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,
Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay,

The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,
The morn, the marshalling in arms—the day
Battle's magnificently stern array!

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent,
The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,
Rider and horse, friend, foe, in one red burial blent.5

Byron.

1 Albyn-an ancient name of the Scottish Highlands.

2 Pibroch-the bagpipe-sometimes the music played upon it.

3 Sir Evan Cameron and his descendant Donald, who were conspicuous in the rebellion of the year 1745.

Ardennes-put here for the wood of Soignies, which was thought to have anciently formed part of the Sylva Arduenna, afterwards called the forest of Ardennes.

5 Childe Harold, though he shuns to celebrate the victory of Waterloo, gives us here a most beautiful description of the evening which preceded the battle of Quatre Bras, the alarm which called out the troops, and the hurry and confusion which preceded their march. I am not sure that any verses in our language surpass, in vigour and in feeling, this most beautiful description:" Sir Walter Scott.

CHRISTMAS.

HEAP on more wood!-the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,

We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Each age has deemed the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer;
Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane
At Iol1 more deep the mead did drain;
High on the beach his galleys drew,
And feasted all his pirate crew;
Then in his low and pine-built hall,
Where shields and axes decked the wall,
They gorged upon the half-dressed steer ;2
Caroused in seas of sable beer;

While round, in brutal jest, were thrown
The half-gnawed rib, and marrow-bone;
Or listened all, in grim delight,

While Scalds yelled out the joys of fight.
Then forth in frenzy would they hie,
While wildly loose their red locks fly,
And dancing round the blazing pile
They make such barbarous mirth the while,
As best might to the mind recall
The boisterous joys of Odin's+ hall.

And well our Christian sires of old

Loved when the year its course had rolled,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all his hospitable train.

Domestic and religious rite

Gave honour to the holy night:

On Christmas-eve the bells were rung;

On Christmas-eve the mass was sung:"

5

' Iol-a Scandinavian word, originally signifying ale-now corrupted into Yule. It characterises here the feast of the Anglo-Saxon god Thor, which nearly coincided with our Christmas.

2 Steer-see note 5, p. 83.

3 Scalds-bards, poets.

+ Odin-or Woden, the principal Anglo-Saxon god, whose name is retained in Wodensday or Wednesday.

5 Mass was sung-This was the only instance throughout the year in which mass was performed in the evening.

That only night in all the year,
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen;1
The hall was dressed with holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry men go,
To gather in the mistletoe.

Then opened wide the Baron's hall
To vassal, tenant, serf,2 and all;
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And Ceremony doffed his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,3
That night might village partner choose;
The lord, underogating,+ share

The vulgar game of "post and pair."5
All hailed, with uncontrolled delight,
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied,
Went roaring up the chimney wide;
The huge hall-table's oaken face,
Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace,
Bore then upon its massive board
No mark to part the squire and lord.
Then was brought in the lusty brawn,
By old blue-coated serving-man;

Then the grim boar's head frowned on high,
Crested with bays and rosemary.
Well can the green-garbed ranger tell,
How, when, and where, the monster fell;
What dogs before his death he tore,
And all the baiting of the boar.

1 Donned her kirtle sheen-put on her gay holiday gown. Kirtle, from the Anglo-Saxon cyrtel, is connected with gird, and denotes a flowing garment for man or woman, requiring to be restrained by a belt or girdle.

2 Vassal-tenant-serf-A vassal is a dependent upon a superior lord, and owes service; a tenant holds land or houses of another, and owes rent; a serf is a slave, and owes himself and all he has.

3 Roses in his shoes-The roses were decorations made of ribbon, like what are now called rosettes.

4

Underogating-without derogating from, or lessening, his dignity.

5 Post and pair-a game at cards, common in early times.