Book: Blackwood\'s Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCXXIX.

V >> Various >> Blackwood\'s Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCXXIX.




* * * * *

Rejoice and laud the prospering skies!
The kernel bursts its husk--behold
From the dull clay the metal rise,
Clear shining, as a star of gold!
Neck and lip, but as one beam,
It laughs like a sun-beam.
And even the scutcheon, clear graven, shall tell
That the art of a master has fashion'd the Bell!

Come in--come in
My merry men--we'll form a ring
The new-born labour christening;
And "CONCORD" we will name her!--
To union may her heart-felt call
In brother-love attune us all!
May she the destined glory win
For which the master sought to frame her--
Aloft--(all earth's existence under,)
In blue-pavilion'd heaven afar
To dwell--the Neighbour of the Thunder,
The Borderer of the Star!
Be hers above a voice to raise
Like those bright hosts in yonder sphere,
Who, while they move, their Maker praise,
And lead around the wreathed year!
To solemn and eternal things
We dedicate her lips sublime!--
To fan--as hourly on she swings
The silent plumes of Time!--
No pulse--no heart--no feeling hers!
She lends the warning voice to Fate;
And still companions, while she stirs,
The changes of the Human State!
So may she teach us, as her tone
But now so mighty, melts away--
That earth no life which earth has known
From the Last Silence can delay!

Slowly now the cords upheave her!
From her earth-grave soars the Bell;
Mid the airs of Heaven we leave her
In the Music-Realm to dwell!
Up--upwards--yet raise--
She has risen--she sways.
Fair Bell to our city bode joy and increase,
And oh, may thy first sound be hallow'd to--PEACE![44]

[43] The translation adheres to the original, in forsaking the
rhyme in these lines and some others.

[44] Written in the time of French war.

* * * * *


VOTIVE TABLETS.

What the God taught me--what, through life, my friend
And aid hath been,
With pious hand, and grateful, I suspend
The temple walls within.

* * * * *


THE GOOD AND THE BEAUTIFUL.

Foster the Good, and thou shalt tend the Flower
Already sown on earth;--
Foster the Beautiful, and every hour
Thou call'st new flowers to birth!

* * * * *


TO ----.

Give me that which thou know'st--I'll receive and attend;--
But thou giv'st me _thyself_--pri'thee spare me, my friend.

* * * * *


GENIUS.

That which hath been can INTELLECT declare,
What Nature built--it imitates or gilds--
And REASON builds o'er Nature--but in air--
_Genius_ alone in Nature--Nature builds.

* * * * *


CORRECTNESS--(Free translation.)

The calm correctness where no fault we see
Attests Art's loftiest--or its least degree;
Alike the smoothness of the surface shows
The Pool's dull stagnor--the great Sea's repose!

* * * * *


THE IMITATOR.

Good out of good--_that_ art is known to all--
But Genius from the bad the good can call--
Thou, mimic, not from leading strings escaped,
Work'st but the matter that's already shaped!
The already shaped a nobler hand awaits--
All matter asks a spirit that creates.

* * * * *


THE MASTER.

The herd of Scribes by what they tell us
Show all in which their wits excel us;
But the true Master we behold
In what his art leaves--just untold!

* * * * *


TO THE MYSTIC.

That is the real mystery which around
All life, is found;--
Which still before all eyes for aye has been,
Nor eye hath seen!

* * * * *


ASTRONOMICAL WORKS.

All measureless, all infinite in awe,
Heaven to great souls is given--
And yet the sprite of littleness can draw
Down to its inch--the Heaven!

* * * * *


THE DIVISION OF RANKS.

Yes, there's a patent of nobility
Above the meanness of our common state;
With what they _do_ the vulgar natures buy
Its titles--and with what they _are_, the great!

* * * * *


THEOPHANY.

When draw the Prosperous near me, I forget
The gods of heaven; but where
Sorrow and suffering in my sight are set,
The gods, I feel, are there!

* * * * *


THE CHIEF END OF MAN.

What the chief end of Man?--Behold yon tree,
And let it teach thee, Friend!
_Will_ what that will-less yearns for;--and for thee
Is compass'd Man's chief end!

* * * * *


ULYSSES.

To gain his home all oceans he explored--
Here Scylla frown'd--and there Charybdis roar'd;
Horror on sea--and horror on the land--
In hell's dark boat he sought the spectre land,
Till borne--a slumberer--to his native spot
He woke--and sorrowing, knew his country not!

* * * * *


JOVE TO HERCULES.

'Twas not my nectar made thy strength divine,
But 'twas thy strength which made my nectar thine!

* * * * *


THE SOWER.

See, full of hope, thou trustest to the earth
The golden seed, and waitest till the spring
Summons the buried to a happier birth;
But in Time's furrow duly scattering,
Think'st thou, how deeds by wisdom sown may be,
Silently ripen'd for Eternity?

* * * * *


THE MERCHANT.

Where sails the ship?--It leads the Tyrian forth
For the rich amber of the liberal North.
Be kind ye seas--winds lend your gentlest wing,
May in each creek, sweet wells restoring spring!--
To you, ye gods, belong the Merchant!--o'er
The waves, his sails the wide world's goods explore;
And, all the while, wherever waft the gales,
The wide world's good sails with him as he sails!

* * * * *


COLUMBUS.

Steer on, bold Sailor--Wit may mock thy soul that sees the land,
And hopeless at the helm may drop the weak and weary hand,
YET EVER--EVER TO THE WEST, for there the coast must lie,
And dim it dawns and glimmering dawns before thy reason's eye;
Yea, trust the guiding God--and go along the floating grave,
Though hid till now--yet now, behold the New World o'er the wave!
With Genius Nature ever stands in solemn union still,
And ever what the One foretels the Other shall fulfil.

* * * * *


THE ANTIQUE TO THE NORTHERN WANDERER.

And o'er the river hast thou past, and o'er the mighty sea,
And o'er the Alps, the dizzy bridge hath borne thy steps to me;
To look all near upon the bloom my deathless beauty knows,
And, face to face, to front the pomp whose fame through ages goes--
Gaze on, and touch my relics now! At last thou standest here,
But art thou nearer now to me--or I to thee more near?

* * * * *


THE ANTIQUE AT PARIS.

What the Grecian arts created,
May the victor Gaul, elated,
Bear with banners to his strand.[45]
In museums many a row,
May the conquering showman show
To his startled Fatherland!

Mute to him, they crowd the halls,
Ever on their pedestals
Lifeless stand they!--He alone
Who alone, the Muses seeing,
Clasps--can warm them into being;
The Muses to the Vandal--stone!

[45] To the shore of the Seine.

* * * * *


THE POETRY OF LIFE.

"Who would himself with shadows entertain,
Or gild his life with lights that shine in vain,
Or nurse false hopes that do but cheat the true?
Though with my dream my heaven should be resign'd--
Though the free-pinion'd soul that now can dwell
In the large empire of the Possible,
This work-day life with iron chains may bind,
Yet thus the mastery o'er ourselves we find,
And solemn duty to our acts decreed,
Meets us thus tutor'd in the hour of need,
With a more sober and submissive mind!
How front Necessity--yet bid thy youth
Shun the mild rule of life's calm sovereign, Truth."

So speak'st thou, friend, how stronger far than I;
As from Experience--that sure port serene--
Thou look'st; and straight, a coldness wraps the sky,
The summer glory withers from the scene,
Scared by the solemn spell; behold them fly,
The godlike images that seem'd so fair!
Silent the playful Muse--the rosy Hours
Halt in their dance; and the May-breathing flowers
Pall from the sister-Graces' waving hair.
Sweet-mouth'd Apollo breaks his golden lyre,
Hermes, the wand with many a marvel rife;--
The veil, rose-woven by the young Desire
With dreams, drops from the hueless cheeks of Life.
The world seems what it _is_--A Grave! and Love
Casts down the bondage wound his eyes above,
And _sees_!--He sees but images of clay
Where he dream'd gods; and sighs--and glides away.
The youngness of the Beautiful grows old,
And on thy lips the bride's sweet kiss seems cold;
And in the crowd of joys--upon thy throne
Thou sitt'st in state, and harden'st into stone.

* * * * *




CALEB STUKELY.

PART XII.

THE PARSONAGE.


It was not without misgiving that I knocked modestly at the door of Mr
Jehu Tomkins. For himself, there was no solidity in his moral
composition, nothing to grapple or rely upon. He was a small weak man of
no character at all, and but for his powerful wife and active partner,
would have become the smallest of unknown quantities in the respectable
parish that contained him. Upon his own weak shoulders he could not have
sustained the burden of an establishment, and must inevitably have
dwindled into the lightest of light porters, or the most aged of
errand-boys. Nothing could have saved him from the operation of a law,
as powerful and certain as that of gravitation, in virtue of which the
soft and empty-headed of this world walk to the wall, and resign,
without a murmur, their places to their betters. As for the deaconess, I
have said already that the fact of her being a lady, and the possessor
of a heart, constituted the only ground of hope that I could have in
reference to her. This I felt to be insecure enough when I held the
knocker in my hand, and remembered all at once the many little tales
that I had heard, every one of which went far to prove that ladies may
be ladies without the generous weakness of their sex,--and carry hearts
about with them as easily as they carry bags.

My first application was unsuccessful. The deacon was not at home. "Mr
Tomkins and his lady had gone _to hear_ the Reverend Doctor
Whitefroth,"--a northern and eccentric light, now blazing for a time in
the metropolis. It is a curious fact, and worthy to be recorded, that Mr
Tomkins, and Mr Buster, and every non-conformist whom I had hitherto
encountered, never professed to visit the house of prayer with any other
object than that of _hearing_. It was never by any accident to worship
or to pray. What, in truth was the vast but lowly looking building, into
which hundreds crowded with the dapper deacon at their head, sabbath
after sabbath--what but a temple sacred to vanity and excitement,
eloquence and perspiration! Which one individual, taken at random from
the concourse, was not ready to declare that his business there that day
was "to hear the dear good man," and nothing else? If you could lay
bare--as, thank Heaven, you cannot--your fellow-creature's heart,
whither would you behold stealing away the adoration that, in such a
place, in such a time, is due to one alone--whither, if not to Mr
Clayton? But let this pass.

I paid a second visit to my friend, and gained admittance. It was about
half-past eight o'clock in the evening, and the shop had been closed
some twenty minutes before. I was ushered into a well-furnished room
behind the shop, where sat the firm--Mrs Jehu and the junior partner.
The latter looked into his lady's face, perceived a smile upon it, and
then--but not till then, he offered me his hand, and welcomed me with
much apparent warmth. This ceremony over, Mr Tomkins grew fidgety and
uneasy, and betrayed a great anxiety to get up a conversation which he
had not heart enough to set a going. Mrs Tomkins, a woman of the world,
evinced no anxiety at all, sat smiling, and in peace. I perceived
immediately that I must state at once the object of my visit, and I
proceeded to the task.

"Mrs Tomkins," I commenced.

"Sir?" said that lady, and then a postman's knock brought us to a stop,
and Jehu skipped across the room to listen at the door.

"That's him, my dear Jemima," exclaimed the linen-draper, "I know his
knock," and then he skipped as quickly to his chair again.

The door of the apartment was opened by a servant girl, who entered the
room alone and approached her mistress with a card. Mrs Tomkins looked
at it through her eye-glass, said "she was most happy," and the servant
then retired. The card was placed upon the table near me, and, as I
believe, for my inspection. I took it up, and read the following words,
"_Mr Stanislaus Levisohn_." They were engraven in the centre of the
paper, and were surrounded by a circle of rays, which in its turn was
enveloped in a circle of clouds. In the very corner of the card, and in
very small characters, the words "_general merchant_" were written.

There was a noise of shoe-cleaning outside the door for about five
minutes, then the door was opened again by the domestic, and a
remarkable gentleman walked very slowly in. He was a tall individual,
with small cunning eyes, black eye-brows, and a beard. He was rather
shabbily attired, and not washed with care. He had thick boorish hands,
and he smelt unpleasantly of tobacco smoke; an affected grin at variance
with every feature, was planted on his face, and sickened an
unprejudiced observer at the very first gaze. His mode of uttering
English betrayed him for a foreigner. He was a native of Poland. Before
uttering a syllable, the interesting stranger walked to a corner of the
room, turned himself to the wall, and muttered a few undistinguishable
words. He then bowed lowly to the company, and took a chair, grinning
all the while.

"Is that a Polish move?" asked Mr Tomkins.

"It vos de coshtom mit de anshent tribes, my tear sare, vor alles tings,
to recommend de family to de protection of de hevins. Vy not now mit all
goot Christians?"

"Why not indeed?" added Mrs Tomkins. "May I offer you a glass of raisin
wine?"

"Tank you. For de shtomack's sake--yase."

A glass was poured out. It was but decent to offer me another. I paid my
compliments to the hostess and the gentlemen, and was about to drink it
off, when the enlightened foreigner called upon me in a loud voice to
desist.

"Shtay, mein young friend--ve are not de heathen and de cannibal. It is
our privilege to live in de Christian society mit de Christian lady. Ve
most ask blessing--alvays--never forget--you excuse--vait tree minutes."

It was not for me to protest against so pious a movement, albeit it
presented itself somewhat inopportunely and out of place. Mr Levisohn
covered his face with one hand, and murmured a few words. The last only
reached me. It was "Amen," and this was rather heaved up in a sigh, than
articulately expressed.

"Do you like the wine?" asked Jehu, as if he thought it superfine.

"Yase, I like moch--especially de sherry and de port."

Jehu smiled, but made no reply.

Mrs Tomkins supposed that port and sherry were favourite beverages in
Poland, but, for her part, she had found that nothing agreed so well
with British stomachs as the native wines.

"Ah! my lady," said the Pole, "ve can give up very moch so long ve got
British religions."

"Very true, indeed," answered Mrs Tomkins. "Pray, Mr Levisohn, what may
be your opinion of the lost sheep? Do you think they will come into the
fold during our time?"

Before the gentleman replies, it may be proper to state on his behalf,
that he had never given his questioner any reason to suppose that he was
better informed on such mysterious subjects than herself. The history of
his introduction into the family of the linen-draper is very short. He
had been for some years connected with Mr Tomkins in the way of
business, having supplied that gentleman with all the genuine foreign,
but certainly English, perfumery, that was retailed with considerable
profit in his over-nice and pious establishment. Mrs Tomkins, no less
zealous in the cause of the church than that of her own shop, at length,
and all on a sudden, resolved to set about his conversion, and to
present him to the chapel as a brand plucked with her own hand from the
burning. As a preliminary step, he was invited to supper, and treated
with peculiar respect. The matter was gently touched upon, but
discussion postponed until another occasion. Mr Levisohn being very
shrewd, very needy, and enjoying no particular principles of morality
and religion, perceived immediately the object of his hostess, met her
more than half-way in her Christian purposes, and accepted her numerous
invitations to tea and supper with the most affectionate readiness.
Within two months he was received into the bosom of the church, and
became as celebrated for the depth and intensity of his belief as for
the earnestness and promptitude with which he attended the meetings of
the brethren, particularly those in which eating and drinking did not
constitute the least important part of the proceedings. Being a
foreigner, he was listened to with the deepest attention, very often
indeed to his serious annoyance, for his ignorance was awful, and his
assurance, great as it was, not always sufficient to get him clear of
his difficulties. His foreign accent, however, worked wonders for him,
and whenever too hard pressed, afforded him a secure and happy retreat.
An unmeaning grin, and "_me not pronounce_," had saved him from
precipices, down which an Englishman, _caeteris paribus_, must
unquestionably have been dashed.

"Vill dey come?" said Mr Levisohn, in answer to the question. "Yase,
certainly, if dey like, I tink."

"Ah, sir, I fear you are a latitudinarian," said the lady.

"I hope Hevin, my dear lady, vill forgive me for dat, and all my
wickedness. I am a shinner, I shtink!"

I looked at the converted gentleman, at the same moment that Mrs Jehu
assured him that it would be a great thing if they were all as satisfied
of their condition as he might be. "Your strong convictions of your
worthlessness is alone a proof," she added, "of your accepted state."

"My lady," continued the humble Stanislaus, "I am rotten, I am a tief, a
blackguard, a swindler, a pickpocket, a housebreak, a sticker mit de
knife. I vish somebody would call me names all de day long, because I
forget sometime dat I am de nashty vurm of de creation. I tink I hire a
boy to call me names, and make me not forget. Oh, my lady, I alvays
remember those fine words you sing--

'If I could read my title clear
To manshions in de shkies,
I say farevell to every fear,
And vipe my veeping eyes.'"

"That is so conscientious of you. Pray, my dear sir, is there an
Establishment in Poland? or have you Independent churches?"

"Ah, my dear lady, we have noting at all!"

"Is it possible?"

"Yase, it is possible--it is true."

"Who could have thought it! What! nothing?"

"Noting at all, my lady. Do not ask me again, I pray you. It is
frightful to a goot Christian to talk dese tings."

"What is your opinion of the Arminian doctrine, Mr Stanislaus?"

"Do you mean de doctrine?" enquired Stanislaus, slowly, as though he
found some difficulty in answering the question.

"Yes, my dear sir."

"I tink," said the gentleman, after some delay, "it vould he very goot
if were not for someting."

"Dear me!" cried Mrs Jehu, "that is so exactly my opinion!"

"Den dere is noting more to be said about dat," continued Stanislaus,
interrupting her; "and I hope you vill not ask dese deep questions, my
dear lady, vich are not at all proper to be answered, and vich put me
into de low spirits. Shall ve sing a hymn?"

"By all means," exclaimed the hostess, who immediately made preparations
for the ceremony. Hymn-books were introduced, and the servant-maid
ordered up, and then a quartet was performed by Mr Levisohn, Mrs
Tomkins, her husband, and Betsy. The subject of the song was the
courtship of Isaac. Two verses only have remained in my memory, and the
manner in which they were given out by the fervent Stanislaus will never
be forgotten. They ran thus:--

"Ven Abraham's servant to procure
A vife for Isaac vent,
He met Rebekah, tould his vish,
Her parents gave conshent.

'Shtay,' Satan, my old master, cries,
'Or force shall thee detain.'
'Hinder me not, I vill be gone,
I vish to break my chain.'"

This being concluded, Mr Tomkins asked Mr Levisohn what he had to say in
the business line, to which Mr Levisohn replied, "Someting very goot,
but should he not vait until after soppare?" whereupon Mr Tomkins gave
his lady a significant leer, and the latter retired, evidently to
prepare the much desired repast. Then did little Jehu turn
confidentially to Stanislaus, and ask him when he meant to deliver that
ere _conac_ that he had promised him so long ago.

"Ven Providence, my tear dikkon, paremits--I expect a case of goots at
de cushtom-house every day; but my friend vot examins de marchandis, and
vot saves me de duties ven I makes it all right mit him, is vary ill, I
am sorry for to say, and ve most vait, mit Christian patience, my dear
sare, till he get well. You see dat?"

"Oh, yes; that's clear enough. Well, Stanny, I only hope that fellow
won't die. I don't think you'd find it so easy to make it _all right_
with any other chap; that's all!"

"I hope he vill not die. Ve mosht pray dat he live, my dear dikkon. I
tink it vill be vell if der goot Mr Clayton pray mit der church for him.
You shall speak for him."

"Well, what have you done about the _Eau de Cologne_?" continued Jehu
Tomkins. "Have you nailed the fellow?"

"It vos specially about dis matter dat I vish to see you, my dear sare.
I persvade der man to sell ten cases. He be very nearly vot you call in
der mess. He valk into de Gazette next week. He shtarve now. I pity him.
De ten cases cost him ten pounds. I give fifty shilling--two pound ten.
He buy meat for de childs, and is tankful. I take ten shillings for my
trouble. Der Christian satisfied mit vary little."

"Any good bills in the market, Stanny?"

Stanislaus Levisohn winked.

"Ho--you don't say so," said the deacon. "Have you got 'em with you?"

"After soppare, my dear sare," answered Stanislaus, who looked at me,
and winked again significantly at Jehu.

Mrs Tomkins returned, accompanied by the vocal Betsy. The cloth was
spread, and real silver forks, and fine cut tumblers, and blue plates
with scripture patterns, speedily appeared. Then came a dish of fried
sausages and parsley--then baked potatoes--then lamb chops. Then we all
sat round the table, and then, against all order and propriety, Mrs Jehu
grossly and publicly insulted her husband at his own board, by calling
upon the enlightened foreigner to ask a blessing upon the meal.

The company sat down; but scarcely were we seated before Stanislaus
resumed.

"I tank you, my tear goot Mrs Tomkins for dat shop mit der brown, ven it
comes to my turn to be sarved. It look just der ting."

Mrs Jehu served her guest immediately.

"I vill take a sossage, tear lady, also, if you please."

"And a baked potato?"

"And a baked potato? Yase."

He was served.

"I beg your pardon, Christian lady, have you got, perhaps, der littel
pickel-chesnut and der crimson cabbage?"

"Mr Tomkins, go down-stairs and get the pickles," said the mistress of
the house, and Tomkins vanished like a mouse on tiptoe.

Before he could return, Stanislaus had eaten more than half his chop,
and discovered that, after all, "it was _not_ just the ting." Mrs Jehu
entreated him to try another. He declined at first; but at length
suffered himself to be persuaded. Four chops had graced the dish
originally; the remaining two were divided equally between the lady and
myself. I begged that my share might be left for the worthy host, but
receiving a recommendation from his wife "not to mind _him_," I said no
more, but kept Mr Stanislaus Levisohn in countenance.

"I hope you'll find it to your liking, Mr Stukely," said our hostess.

"Mishter vat?" exclaimed the foreigner, looking quickly up. "I tink
I"----

"What is the matter, my dear sir?" enquired the lady of the house.

"Noting, my tear friend, I tought der young gentleman vos a poor
unconverted sinner dat I met a long time ago. Dat is all. Ve talk of
someting else."

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.