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TUG MEN OF THE NORTH m THEIR PLICE E HISTORY. 
 
 UY K. Cf. HAI.IBURTON, F. S. A., 
 
 KKI.LtiW ((K TIIK nOYAI, SOCIETY OF NORTHERN AWTIQrAUlBS OV COPKNIIAOKX. 
 
 From the OTTAWA TiMES, March 20, 1869. 
 
 We are enabled to lay before our readers 
 tills morning a condensed report of Uie \ery 
 interesting lecture delivered by Mr. Ham- 
 jiVRToN, on Tliursday evening, before the 
 Young Men's Christian Association ot this 
 city. The lecture was tne concluding one of 
 tlie winter course of the Association, and 
 owing, doubtiebs, to this fact, and tbe high 
 reputation of the talented lecturer, drew 
 torth a large and highly intelligent audience. 
 Mr, Haliuurton well merited all the ap- 
 plause he received ; his lecture wan a liter- 
 ary treAt, which all those present thoroughly 
 enjoyed. 
 
 The lecturer commenced by pointing out 
 tlie importance of a nation having a firm 
 faith in its own future. 
 
 Onr heritage lathe Northern portioa of thb 
 Continent. The new Dominion is peopled by 
 the descundints of Northern races. Hare the 
 men of tbe N^^rth in the New World a hope- 
 ful career before them ? What is the stock 
 from which we liave sprung 9 Who are the 
 men ot tlie North, and what is their place in 
 liistory ? The lecturer dtalt with the ques- 
 tion whether it is not due to the coM, bracing 
 winds of the North, that the mea of the 
 Nortii have ever been " the scourge of God" 
 upon the sunny South. He then stretched 
 the national characteristics of tlie four great 
 dominant races that preceded the era when 
 the sceptre of powsr was grasped by northern 
 men. The Egyptain, patient and enduring, 
 could build pyramids that could defy time, but 
 could not build up a nation th&t coulii resist 
 the power of uorthern invaders. " Destruc- 
 tion cumt-th, it Cometh from the North. The 
 daughter of Egypt shall be confounded, and 
 she shall be delivered into the hands of the 
 people of the North. ' The Assyrians, worthy 
 descendants of Nimrod <> the mighty hunter ht- 
 fore tbe Lord," who still startle us by the stern 
 spirit of the con<|ueror that breathes in the 
 man-headed bulls, and in their warlike kings 
 Btriding on with the step of the lion, were 
 destined to fall before a northern power. 
 " Out of the North a people shall come upou 
 her, that shall make her laud duEolate 
 and no man shall dwell tlu-rein." The 
 Oretks conquered the world of lettois 
 by their literature and art ; the llomaus by 
 
 their political genius, and by their warlike 
 qualites, made the eternal city the csistiess ot 
 the world. Both paved the \i ay for a new era,, 
 for a Christian civUizatiou. But new soil was 
 needed for the growth of a new religion. New 
 blood was required tor a new life. The rot- 
 ten stem of expiring ht-athenii<m could never 
 be a healthy stock on which to engraft a puro 
 faith. And Providence sent the Northern 
 barbarians, as the scourgrs of the South, to 
 sweep away every vestige of the world of the 
 past. The life and energy of youib were need- 
 ed for the establishment of a new rHligion, just 
 as they areneeessary for the formation of a new 
 Dominion. The lecturer here reft^rred to the 
 generous enthusiasm of the lamented UcGee, 
 and the singular influence that such 
 a spirit wields in the formation of nationali- 
 ties. As the firc-worshippera at the begin- 
 ning of tbe year put out ;the .old fires and re- 
 kindled a blaze from the rays of the sun, it 
 was needful that on the eve of a new era in 
 tbe history of the world, the light of the past 
 should be quenched forever,and that kindled by 
 the hands of the North, a bow and a purer light, 
 should blaze from the altars and the hearths 
 of a new civilization. The lecturer showed 
 that our modern literature, science, and juris- 
 prudence have only been productive of satis- 
 factory results when they were Ihe cmhodi* 
 ment of northern idras, and that all attempts 
 to revive the poetry, learning, or laws of 
 ancient Greece and Home have signally failed. 
 The great mission of the men of the North, 
 was to be the foumlers of a new civilization, 
 and to be thectiampious of freedom in every 
 land. 
 
 The most interesting of these northern 
 races were the Normans or Northmen, whoso 
 sea-king Rollo conquered France, and left 
 Normandy as a heritage to his family. He 
 claimed descent from the gods of the North, 
 as well as from Fornjotr, the old Frost Giunt, 
 the Father of the Wind and of the Ocean. 
 
 His successor, William the Conqueror, sub- 
 dued Britain, and It is as his heir that Her 
 Gracious Majesty, the royal descendant of' 
 tiro old Frost Giant, now rules over a Northern 
 ra( 0, and sways the sceptre of the sea. 
 
 Here in the New World, we, who are sprung 
 from these men of the North, are about to 
 form a New Dominion in this Northern land„ 
 
it wottby home fur the old Frost Miunt, a%aa 
 proud domain for his royal descendant. We 
 have here strangelv uiiited together, all the 
 original elements u> ••.. British race. We 
 l>ave the Celt, with his trdtlitionsof "good 
 king Arthur," from whom, through her an- 
 cient firiticih ancestorii, her Gracious Majesty 
 may claim descent ; we have the 8axun or 
 Teutonic element, and in Quebec we tiave a 
 race that have come from Normandy and 
 Brittany, the one the land ot the Northmen 
 or Notmana, and the other inhabited by a 
 X!!eltlc race, cherishing the Ancient British 
 traditions of King Arthur and bis twelve 
 companions. 
 
 The Norman French of Quebec may well 
 led promiiwhen they remember that tbeycaa 
 claim what no otht-r portion of the Empire 
 can assert, that they are governed by a 
 monarch of their own race, who holds her 
 sceptre as the heir of Rollo, the Norman 
 8ea>klng who first ltd their ancestors forth 
 from the forests of the North to the plains of 
 Normandy. 
 
 We hav« called the Dominion by the 
 name of Canada. There is much in a 
 name for a man or a nationality. I like 
 lodiah names for towns and for provinces, 
 and there is something melodious and plea- 
 Hing in the name of Ganadn, which favourably 
 contrasts with the wretched dog-latiu name of 
 Nova Scotia. Newfoundland, New Biuuswick, 
 Prince Edward's Island, can anything be 
 more unhappy ? For a province J. freely ad- 
 mit that Indian names are nrifeiable , but 
 should we ever b( cume a nution, we need a 
 name that will have some historial tradition, 
 or at least some meaning and significance. 
 Wliat doeg daiiadii mean ? Is it Indian ? 
 Tbe Htiroh and the Mohawk stare at you 
 when you ask them to explain it, and even 
 the Mecmac declines i.ie hono^ir of its ac- 
 quaintance, and tells you he never beard tell 
 of such an Indian. We have been driven to 
 Portuguese or !Spaui!<h, I forget which, and 
 to the doubtful tradition that the early dis- 
 coverers looking for gold were told there was 
 Canada, " no gold here, ' or " nothing here." 
 Canada then either does not signify any- 
 thing, or it means the land of nothing. What 
 a glorious national coguomeii to select! 
 What a destiny — to be a nation of nobodiies 
 living in the land of nothing I 
 
 1 atn remin'led ot a story of a humourous 
 frierd of mine, a son of the late Judge Archi- 
 baldi who has inherited his fathei's humour 
 and wit Whenever he comes to Halifax, he 
 is beset by an old servant who is always on 
 the lookout fur a half-crown. On one 
 occasion he came up as usual, " Oh 1 Master 
 Peter, I am so glad to see you, you're always 
 the saiue, always the same." « Yes," replied 
 Ma'Ster Peter, who happens to be on the 
 shady side of fifty, but is still Master Peter, 
 "yes" he answered slapping his empty 
 pockbt, " I'm always the same, John, you'll 
 find no change about me,' What our witty 
 fiiend asseited of himself in jest, history will 
 suppose that we have seriously claimed for 
 ourselves as our national characteristic, that 
 ours is " the laud that knows no change." 
 WV s'nuld we puzzle bistcry by g-lving our- 
 
 selves a name of which it cun make nothing ? 
 Kx nihilo nihfyfu. We are no nameless race of 
 savages, who have no past which we can recall 
 with pride, and no future which we can work 
 out for ouiselvea and our children. We are 
 the sons and the heirs of those who have built 
 up a new civilization, and though we have 
 em'grat-jd to the Woi«tern world, we have i^ot 
 left our native land behind, for we arc still in 
 the North, in the home of the old frost giant, 
 'and the cold north wind that rocked the cradle 
 of our race, still d!ows through our forests, and 
 breathes the spirit of lilierly into our htartn, 
 and 1( nds strength and vigour to our limbs. 
 As long as the north wind blows, and the 
 snow and the sleet drive over our forests and 
 fie Id p, we may bo a poor, but we must be n 
 hardy, a healthy, a virtuous, a daring, and it 
 we are worthy of our ancestors, a dominant 
 rag©; 
 
 Jwii lis then, shoiild wo over beconto i% 
 natioB, nerer forget the labd that we live in, 
 and the race from which we have sprung. 
 Let us revive the grand old name of Norland, 
 " the Land of the North ; ' We are the north' 
 men of the New World. We laust claim the 
 name and k-endt r ourselves worthy olt it. 
 
 Wherever we may go, we shall dud it " famil- 
 iar as a househ'old word " and the flag of 
 the northmen once more flying upon the 
 ocean, will be a livili'g memorial of a glorious 
 past, and the herald of a noble future. 
 
 I once stobJ amid a crowd of touri&ts in a 
 ruined abbey on the Tweed. The viry dead 
 seemed to be dying a second death, for the 
 monuments on which their names siill liuger- 
 ed, and which told ot them as the f jrmer 
 owners of the surrounding country, and of the 
 burial aisle, were crumbling away, or being 
 hidden by the luxuriant ivy^ and the garul- 
 ous old guide told ud qilaint leg'eiids of those 
 whose t<imbs we saw, and lamented over the 
 ■* good lairds of Westolin," whose lands had 
 passed into other families, and whose name 
 had become extinct. " No," we replied, know- 
 ing that one of our party bore the itadle and 
 was descended from the race whb^e lost 
 resting place we were exploring, " no, they 
 are not all dead and gone — for here 
 is one of the old stock who has come 
 from America to show you thac though they 
 may have died out in the Old World, ihcro aro 
 litill some of them left across the ocean who 
 will preserve and perpetuate the name of the 
 " good lairds of Westouo." The efi°< ct was 
 magical. The old guide instantly deserted ui 
 to inform the villagers that one ot " the old 
 residenters'' was still in existence, and had 
 returned to the old homestead, and in a few 
 minutes we were amused by watching a rustic 
 ciowd that had collected around our friend, 
 gazing upon him with open-mouthed delizht, 
 As they insisted on his remaining there a fevf 
 days, we left him behind us, not rmong stran- 
 gers, but among those who beheld in him all 
 the local traditions and memories of '' ^be 
 good lairds ot Westoun," embodied uod rv°-^ 
 vived. And thus will it be with ourselveii 
 History, the guide to the pa^t, tells the natioi.s 
 of the daring de«:ds of the Northm.n. How 
 they made every land the witness of their 
 chivalry and valour, leaving their trophicfi fa 
 
 I- 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
i. 
 
 £urope, Asia and Afrit'a ; how long elgen oc- 
 fore the daya of Columbui', they dificovered 
 the New World, and how centuries before 
 Jacques Cariiur wis born, they coasted along 
 the short s of the Mew Dominion at least as far 
 south as Cape Sable, and thus by right of dia- 
 coTery made it their own. And it laments 
 that the Northmen have ceased to be a people, 
 and have been merged and lost in the Danes, 
 the Swbiles, and the BritUh rac», that tho 
 name of Norland is furgolten, aftd that Nor. 
 Vnandy has become a mere province of France. 
 But when it is whispered that in the New 
 World, nit n of the North, sprung from the old 
 8tocl(, whose fl etsare whitening every ocean, 
 and who c!aim to be the third maritime pow- 
 er in the wurld, liave assumt d once more that 
 old familiar name ; when it h known that the 
 hhips of tbe Nuithmen are once more to be 
 8 en in every sen, and in every port, history 
 will rejoice at seeing the past revived, and the 
 world will give them a friendly grieting as 
 they once more take ihiir place in the family 
 of nations. 
 
 1 mnst now conclud-, but bofi>re doing so, 
 I must n<)t b -. guilty cf a want of that courtesy 
 to the fair sox which has ever been the 
 peculiar cha^MterfErtic of the North. We 
 have heard much to-night of the men of 
 the Notth, but we have forgotten those who 
 W( re not less important in moulding the 
 character of our lace — the women of the 
 North. Time will now fail me to remedy the 
 omission, yet ji'stice and courtesy alilie re- 
 quire us to pay them the tribute of a moment's 
 remembrance. Nothing surprised the Romans 
 morj in the character of Northern nations, 
 than the respect paid by them to women. 
 The Roman historian while extolling the do- 
 megtic virtues of our ancestorti, was indirectly 
 holding up to contempt the degraded state of 
 society among his countrymen. Nothing, he 
 t lis UH, was more to be admired in the man- 
 ners of the N6it'a th'in the inviolability of 
 marriage. "No one among them" he fayi>, 
 '( makes a jest of vice, for it fB not with tbem as 
 with us an age of corrupting and corruption." 
 The presents to the b.ide were hot a rich 
 trousseau, but cattle, a shield, a helmet, and a 
 sword, as emblems to remind her that she 
 must be willing to share not only the toils ot 
 peace, but also the d mgers of war, and that 
 she should be prepared alike to live and die 
 with her husband. Sic vivendum, aie pereun- 
 duin. Nor was this only a matter of form. 
 To tlie coward death was a penalty which he 
 bad to meet at the hands of the womem, if he 
 dared not fall facing the foe. The Romans 
 were amazed when they vouterltheCymbri, at 
 seeing the Celtic mothers in their fury slay- 
 ing husbands, brothers, and foes alik.?, and 
 perishing with their children by their own 
 hands. The respect which Northern women 
 thus meiited and received, developed in time 
 into the romantic feeling of chi valry,Hnd it still 
 lingers in that deference which is paid in mod- 
 ern society to women, and which so strongly 
 contrasts with the low estimate in which they 
 were held in the days of ancient Greece and 
 Rome. 
 
 " lam sick ofhearing our poets iforever harp- 
 ing upon the Eunny South as " the land of lOvo 
 
 ; and song." The land of love I It may bo the 
 parent of wild passion, « the fiery, the fickle 
 South," 
 
 "Where the rage of the vulture, the love of th^ 
 
 turtle, 
 " Now melt into sorrow, now madden to erime," 
 
 but domestic love and affe: .ion find only a 
 congenial home in the North. Why should 
 we call the South <> the laud of song"? Tbe 
 tuneful warbler^ of tbe throve are all natives 
 of the North, ai^d annually re'turn to their 
 home to make it the land of love and Bong, 
 and to rear up a hardy and a healthy brood. 
 The- bright winged birds of tbe South have no 
 song, and even the annual emigrants from the 
 North lose the gift of melody when they leave 
 tht ir own shores. Thotigh the forests of the 
 South are strangely silent, we must not forget 
 the little snow-white cum;>ano2a, so called from 
 its note resembling the ring of a bell, which 
 perched far up aloft on the top of the highest 
 teak tree, looks as i¥ some good spirit of the 
 North, in the form of a snow flake, had wan- 
 dered away with the emigrants. It may ring 
 its chime. But it rings in vain. The anthem 
 of the woods is silent. The exileg are mute, 
 for, like captive Judah, "how can they 
 sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" 
 They are true sons of the Noith. We may 
 wander oif to the plains of India, to the 
 mines of Australia or Nevada, or to the plan- 
 tations of the Mississippi. We may forget, 
 and even turn our arms against the land of 
 our birth, but the tuneful emigrant will nevter 
 forget her. As sure as the streams begin to 
 flow and the flowers to bloom, he will, if he 
 is living, be here to greet them ; ahd bholild 
 he be crippled by accident, dr maimed by 
 some bird of prey, and unAble to B';comptk.'>y 
 his companions in their homeward jcurney, 
 he will pine for the land of his birth, like the 
 crippled pauper who team the deserted pier 
 eagerly watuhes the crowded hoihe boimd 
 packet ship till it passds out of sight on its 
 way to his native land, and tbe tears steal 
 into his eyts as he turns away with the vain 
 wish in his breast that heaven would but give 
 him wealth enough to carry him across the 
 ocean, or that he had the wings of a dove, 
 " for then he would fly to his home and be at 
 rest." No I depend upon it, even if our little 
 friend is unable to cross the ocean, and is a 
 prisoner in the South, his heart will still be 
 with us, and he will flutter along the sea 
 shore, and gaze wistfully over the ocean, as 
 his companions become a speck in the north- 
 ern sk;, and vanish in the distance. 
 
 But if all goes right he will be here next 
 spring, and we shall hear him singing his 
 song in praise of the land of the Nort^ of 
 " tbe land of love and song." It may be the 
 robin carolling from the top of the tallest 
 spruce tree, or the linnet^ aft half tipsy with 
 delight it sways to and fro on some bending 
 spray, pouring forth its gubhisg notes of joy. 
 
 As, however, our littlo friend is some thou- 
 sands of miled a\^ay from us, I may venture 
 to give you the burthen of his song. I am 
 only his interpreter, and all translations, ag 
 ybu know, lack the freedom and the sweet-<i 
 ucss of the original. 
 
^. 
 
 TIE MORTU— '< THE LAND UF LOVE AND SON'O.'' 
 
 "Oh tell her awallow, for thou knowost each, 
 That bright and Aurce, and tickle, is the 
 
 South, 
 But dark, and true and tender is the North." 
 
 —The Princess. 
 
 Lcavos were flying, 
 Falling and siKhing, 
 Fading and dying, 
 Under the maple trees ; 
 Under the trees I heard, 
 Was it the leaves that stirred ? 
 Voice of a fay or bird, 
 Saying to mc, 
 Singing this pitiful song to me, 
 Away ! away t 
 Away, 
 We must not stay ; 
 Away 
 Across the sea ! 
 And every note 
 My heart it smote, 
 Till I wept at the wail of the little birdie, 
 ^or I knew twas the spirit of song I heard 
 That sang to me thus with the voice of a bird. 
 
 Farewell to the North, the ctern cold North, 
 
 The home of the brave and the strong. 
 To the true, the trusting, tender North, 
 Deaf land of love and eong 1 
 Hark 1 winter drear 
 It comes a near, 
 We dare not linger long. 
 
 There*s a path in the air, man may not know, 
 
 That guide us o'er the main ; 
 And a voice in the winds, man may not hear, 
 Will call us home again, 
 When the winter dies, 
 And the west wind sighs 
 To hear the linnet's strain. 
 
 In the South, the fierce the fickle South : 
 
 No voice of song is heard ; 
 Though the oriole, like a sunbeam flits 
 With many a radiant bird 
 Through the mangrove's shade, 
 No leafy glade 
 By tuneful notes is stirred. 
 
 Hark I Through the sleeping forest riugs 
 
 The campanola's chime. 
 It calls in vain for the matin hymn 
 That wakes the Northern clime ; 
 How can wo sing 
 Home songs of spring, 
 Or the notes of summer time ? 
 
 Wo silent seek the lonely homes 
 
 Of a long.fcgotti'u race : 
 Through voiceless streets our wingsirc lirnrd, 
 And many a stream wo trace 
 From its unknown source. 
 In its downward courso. 
 Till it dimples the ocean's face.^ 
 
 At length the weary wanderers 
 
 A whispering murmur hear, 
 Like the pent up moan ofa mother's heart, 
 Or the sigh of a sister dear. 
 'Tis a voice from home ; 
 Glad spring has come ! 
 'Tis the sigh of the North we uear. 
 
 Homeward over the salt sea waves, 
 
 We rest mid sunny isles, 
 Where the earth and the sky are ever bright, 
 And the ocean ever smiles ; 
 But the North whisper's " come 
 To your home, sweet home !" 
 Aad we fly from the sunny itlea. 
 
 We ^est on the spars of the stately barque, 
 
 And sonars of the North we sing. 
 Till the mariners weep in their dreams with 
 
 joy, 
 
 As they hear the voice of spring, 
 
 And the linnet's strain 
 
 Stiaid o'er the main, 
 And the song which they hear us sing ; 
 
 We have come to the North, the stern cold 
 North, 
 
 The home of the brave and strong. 
 To the true, the trusting, tender North, 
 
 Dear land of love and song. 
 
 Under the oak trees lying, 
 Budding leaves I see. 
 Winter is dead. 
 Tassels of red 
 Burst from the maple tree ; 
 And the robins and linnets are echoine; baclt 
 Ihesong of the little birdie, 
 ' We have come, 
 We have come 
 To the land of our home 
 From far across the sea ; 
 We have come, 
 We have come,' 
 And the woods whisper ' come,' 
 And my heart it says ' come' to the little 
 
 birdie, 
 For T knew 'twas the spirit of song I heard, 
 That sangto me thus with the voice of a bird.