A734k A: a; i i 3 7 4 1 4 8 3J I m ! o i CD : 3 1 3> : 3) ! -< Maude The Village Grammar School THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES i\l°0 'uoppoj$ = A N 'asnDDjAj — — — aaaNia xaiHdwvd - rv THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES /V / y , / '^/s J'Ht VILLAGE GRAMMAR - SCHOOL, AND OTHER POEMS. THE VILLAGE GRAMMAR-SCHOOL: AND OTHER POEMS. By THOMAS MAUDE, Esa. A.B. OXON. LONDON : PRINTED FOR HATCHARD AND SON, PICCADILLY; AND A. CONSTABLE, EDINBURGH. M1KVCXXIV. LONDON : PrinUd bv WILLIAM CLOWES, North umberlaiid-Court. M34 v CONTENTS. Page The Village Grammar-School 5 Notes to ditto 29 Poems . . . . . • • .31 To a Lady ........ 33 " No more" 35 Lines to H G , Esq 37 Streams and Hearts 39 Fame, a Fragment ....... 43 Bagatelle 44 The Farting Hour 45 To 47 Song ......••• 4S Lines in an Album 49 A Compliment 51 Epistle to Psyche 52 To the Same 59 To the Men of the South .... .61 Ode to Young Napoleon 63 Notes .... .69 Qcro-f oo THE VILLAGE GRAMMAR-SCHOOL, AN EPISTLE; ADDRESSED TO HENRY ROXBY MAUDE, ESQ., IN NOVEMBER, 1823 PREFACE. When in the following Epistle, I exhibit my mind recurring with delight to those earlier years of my boy- hood, which were passed at Oinngham, a secluded village grammar school in the county of Northumberland, I wish it to be remembered, that I am speaking of a remote village school, where the restrictions are less distressing than they necessarily are in town-schools, — where all surrounding objects (of natural scenery) are more cheer- ful and delightfully exhilarating, and where, particularly to a young heart, the external incidents are more touch- ingly impressive — certainly more simple. At Ovingharn we lived in rustic simplicity among rustics, many of whom we were taught to respect, and whose language (not unlike the Lowland Scotch) became in a manner familiar to us. To this I attribute, not only the perfect facility with which I now read and understand the Northern Wizard's most Scottish and vernacular pro- ductions, but also the tone of mental feeling — (something 10 PREFACE. " like the remembered tone of a mute lyie,* 11 ) — which enables me to appreciate the spirit of Scottish Romance, and which to my ear throws a charm over the language of Robert Burns. But, after all, I do not so much contend, that even a school-life like my own at Ovingham is at the time de- lightful per se, as that the matured mind, after the lapse of years, looks back on that season with melancholy plea- sure. It is unquestionably the season of innocent hope and acute sense of pure gratification ; and none, I think, will here dissent from my opinion, excepting those — (no fair judges) — whose misfortune it has been to have been unblessed in their parents and preceptors. Dec. 1823. THE ARGUMENT. Associations of Natural Scenery. — Retrospect. — Ovingham. — A Mother's Visit.— A Village Wedding. — The Pedlar Gossip. — Rural Sights. — The unexpected Holiday. — School-boy Sport;. — Particular Reminiscences.— Ride Home with the Groom. — Observations on maturer Life. — Folly of indulging Enmities.— Eloisa, — Conclusion. " Dear the school-boy spot We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot." THE VILLAGE GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. Woodlands, Nov. llth, 1823. 1\ OW, while the soft light of these shadowy skies, Henry ! o'erflows at once my heart and eyes, — While Autumn's variegated leaves around, Withered and hueless, strew the staining ground, — Thoughts of departed years come back on me ; And can I muse on them, forgetting thee ? Where Prudhoe's ruined towers o'erlook the Tyne My heart is wandering, filled with " auld lang syne." It seems but yesterday since o'er those towers We saw the April clouds dissolved in showers — 14 THE VILLAGE The Summer's gilding beams — or, far and near, The autumnal yellow-tinted foliage sere ; When on the opposing banks we lived at school, Happy beneath the kindest master's rule ! O Memory ! mystical and undefined Power of the heart, whose clew is in the mind ! Hath not a cloud sometimes — a leaf — the power To stir thee, in reflection's tranquil hour ? Life unto me hath nothing strange or new— Ah, my quick heart my boyhood's years outgrew ! So, when that heart with old affections burns, To the enchanted morn of life it turns, Muses o'er feelings fresher, purer still, And sweetly paints remember'd scenes at will. Dear Ovingham ! whose every nook is known Still to my heart — though many years are flown Since, a mere child, among thy hamlets rude Careless I roamed — and loved the solitude — GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. (For sure 'tis solitude where never yet Chilled the warm heart life's frigid etiquette !) Now let thy peaceful memory warm a strain, Which, warmed by thee, can ne'er be pour'd in vain ! • — There thou, my brother, oft with me hast shared The pleasures by maternal love prepared For our young school-boy bosoms — when from home To see her boys a mother loved to come ; — And we for hours would walk conversing free, Ail-lovingly, whate'er the theme might be, — Wandering afar o'er flowery-scented fields, Tasting the bliss that Love, not Nature, yields — How blest ! mid joys that leave no sting of pain, Till the sad hour — when we must part again ! Ye who would blush a mother's love to own ! Smile at a bard who boldly makes it known. I write no false feign'd sentiments, to gain Worthless applause from worldly-minded men. This page is the pure mirror of a breast, With childhood's memories feelingly imprest: 10 THE VILLAGE Throw it, then, by — or pass it o'er in haste— Ye ! in whose polish!d hearts it breeds distaste : Perhaps your jeers at me are not so true As is the pity which I feel for you. But lo ! what smiling groups ! — In colours bright They come, to celebrate the nuptial rite. What happy faces ! — Lasses gaily drest, Ploughmen, in coarse apparel, yet their best, — They come ! — and see, in bridal vesture there, A modest maiden, ruddy, yet how fair ! Downcast her eyes — a village beauty ! — Oft In the hay-season has she sung aloft On the sweet-breathing stack, with fork in hand, Darting the smiles which none can all withstand : — And, when the day declined, how many wove Chaplets of wild-flowers for their queen of love ! But one dear youth from all the rest she chose, Even him, on whom herself she now bestows. — Ah, happy pair ! (whom equal love and truth Unite in the delicious Spring of youth) — GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. 17 Happier than some, more splendidly endow" d With all that makes the feeble heart so proud, Yet wanting that which only can inspire - ' The wedded breast with rapture's genuine fire, — Some — the mere slaves of wealth, of lust, or power, Who like the name, the person, or the dower, — Who become fashionably groom and bride, And call it marriage when the knot is tied ! Another scene loved Memory pictures now — When round the gossip each, with thoughtful brow, Would sit and listen, while, enthroned beside The kitchen's cheerful hearth, in honest pride, She'd tell the wonders of her vagrant life, With changing scenes and strange adventures rife. Poor Nanny ! where art thou ? — Though oft thine e) Have glanced on me (who loved thy histories) While I have turned thy pedlar-goods for sale, Or hung entranced on every wond'rous tale, (Which fostered in my bosom's depth, perchance, The germs of poetry and young romance) c ]S THE VILLAGE Yet, should I meet thee now, thou could'st not know Him who admired and loved thy marvels so ; No, thou would'st pass — or, if required to trace, Could'st recognise no feature in my face, — For I'm all changed, ah ! many years are past, Since, O thou wandering one ! thou saw'st me last. — But I remember thee — thy sun-burnt cheek — Thine eves, through which the native fire would break - Thy form — thy staff, whereof thou lovedst to tell, How for long, long years it had served thee well ! In scenes secluded from all great events, The mind is struck with simplest incidents. The pedlar's cart, with all his wares of trade On the green sward in shining pomp display'd — The mountebank — the condor, whose profound Looks and sly tricks diffuse the marvel round — The strolling troop, whose histrionic art Wins vulgar praise, and strikes th 1 untutored heart — The gypsey wanderers, who awhile remain Encamped within the hawthorn-scented lane — GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. 19 These all, with picturesque effect, combine To charm the fancy — one at least like mine. But hark ! that joyous shout ! Methinks I hear The cry of gladness — yes, it fills my ear — When from the prison school-room all rush out, Wild with delight — a noisy, laughing rout ! A holiday ! — The tasks were just begun, Bright through the window shone the mocking sun, When with the master's Sunday's coat his dame, Bustling and smiling, to the school-room came, And called him thence ! A gentle stranger's come, To take his little prattling urchin home ; And the young smiler, ere he rides away, Begs his papa to ask a holiday 'Tis asked — 'tis granted ! With reluctance feign'd The double favour is in form obtain'd ; But the good master chuckles while he grants, Well-pleased to tend his orchard-trees and plants. What gladdening tidings ! — Oh, the joy within Twenty young hearts, and ah ! the deafening din ! C 2 20 THE VILLAGE Quickly the Latin books are thrown aside, The hats snatched up ; and, like a flooding tide, Out rush the merry hearts, o'erjoyed to be, Thus early in the fragrant morning, free ! -»Away they scamper ; they've a feeling now Of liberty, enlightening every brow ; Away they scamper, full of sport, away — With careless minds, intent on various play : Huzza ! — a long and sunny holiday ! Now, when the first wild transport of delight Subsides, they congregate with faces bright, Loud clamorous tongues, and speaking sparkling eyes, And sports and games — how innocent ! — devise. Ah ! how unlike the headlong passions strong, Which hurry man's maturer heart along, — Passions, in evil pleasures seeking vent, Intenser — but how much less innocent ! — Alas ! to these, ere few brief years be flown, Will all their fiery tyranny be known ! GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. 21 But hence, O hence, anticipations vain ; Age ! view their frolics— and be young again. Some o'er the chalky flags the marble shoot ; Some buy sweet spice, or sweeter summer fruit ; Some the projected racing-match decide ; Some strut on stilts with ill-dissembled pride; Some play the truant, wandering far and wide, Exploring, fearful of each distant sound, The simple wonders of the country round ; Some tend their little gardens ; some (and thee 'Mongst these, my brother, Fancy still can see) Some watch their nibbling rabbits feeding near, Or hold the sparrow-hawk in pleasing fear; — While Nature smiles around, and every boy Feels in his bounding heart the pulse of joy ! " Eheu fugaces 11 — Horace sang of old — And, Henry ! while my artless rhymes unfold Boyhood's dear pleasures, unforgotten still, While all their charms revived thy bosom fill, 22 THE VILLAGE Doth not thy feeling heart at once incline To sympathize with Horace" 1 strain and mine ? — Yes, brother, we have tasted joys like these, With undistracted minds and hearts at ease ; And half their memory's blessedness to me Is that those early joys were shared with thee. Ay, we have climbed the tree, the marble shot, Run the swift race, explored the rural spot, Gathered sweet wood-nuts from the hazel bough, Dammed the bright-flowing burn (which flows on now) Shot coral berries through the hollow reed, Drawn the strong bow, impowered to wound indeed, — Ay, we have mingled in each joyous play, Each pastime loved, through many a holiday, — Or talked of home — sweet home ! — alone, apart — Still, still together : — we were one in heart. But, if those pleasures we can ne'er forget, Oh there were others purer, dearer yet ! When, mid our tasks, when now the morn was new, We heard that John was come — with ponies too, GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. 23 And a delighting letter, winged with joys, From a kind father to his absent boys ! — Then, with the smiling sympathizing groom, (Whose very aspect breathed of happy home) How we would trot all merrily along, Our hearts and voices leaping into song ; — Anticipating, with a warmth of heart Which few maturer raptures can impart, The dear enjoyments of that home endeared, Which hope's elysian Paradise appeared. Since those long-fled, but ne'er forgotten, hours, Kind Heaven hath strewn our path with varied flowers ; Yet — oh my brother ! — we have felt since then The breath of passions which belong to men. Pleasure has lured us with her siren tongue ; Me hath ambition fired — at least in song : And to young Love we've poured the heart in sighs, And felt the glow of indignation rise. -I THE VILLAGE Ay, indignation ! Who can play a part In life, nor feel it struggling in his heart ? — Who can see felon gamesters wear the smile Of kindly intercourse, and rob the while, Who can see ninety of an hundred trained Time-serving deacons perjured when ordained, Who can see fathers prostitute for gold Their unresisting girls, in wedlock sold, Bartering all bliss for loveless splendour's lot, — Nor feel indignant? — I, for one, can not! — Yet some there are, a brazen-visaged crew, Who ne'er the glow of indignation knew ; Who have no choice 'twixt good and evil fame, Who boast of folly, and are proud of shame. With such the Muse no kindred impulse knows — Foes to true feeling, to herself they're foes ! — To other hearts my verse would make appeal, Ingenuous hearts alone, that warmly feel .' Something we've gained in bliss since boyhood's day — But careless confidence is worn away. GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. Now we have learned mistrust ; for who can His manhood's noon, and all confiding be ? We've witnessed (thanks to Heaven ! we have not proved) The faithlessness of hearts too dearly loved ; We've witnessed (/ have felt) the bitter hate Which in weak bosoms envy can create ; We've witnessed kind professions, kindly made, To hearts, when credulous, at once betrayed ; We've witnessed fraud in bosoms seeming just ; — And thus, in the world's school, we've learned mistrusl Ah ! truth severe ! — In this so transient scene, Where, mid joy's sunshine, clouds still intervene, Shall enmity's factitious load oppress The fellow-pilgrims of the wilderness ? The chart of life is but a chequered span — And the grave closes every path to man : To Pleasure's victim, and to Glory's slave, Yes, there s one goal— illumed by hope— the grave ! All reach it soon ; but some achieve the race While youth's bright dawn yet lightens o'er the face, 2d THE VILLAGE And hope is winged ! — Woe's me ! the funeral cry Strikes my sad heart, while sorrow palls mine eye ! Now wherefore should I tune my lyre ? for she, Whose kinder ear had loved its melody, Sleeps in the grave — the beautiful, the young — Quenched the bright eye, and silenced the sweet tongue ! Oh Eloisa ! sainted spirit ! — I see Thy narrow bed, and weep, remembering thee ! Who would forbid the Muse to mourn thy doom, While heart- wrung tears flow gushing o'er thy tomb ? When last I saw thee, dear departed one ! Youth's sparkling life in every feature shone ; And o'er thy sylphic form and Grecian face Beamed the mild lustre of attractive grace. Then, in a pensive (yet not joyless) hour, Thee once I likened to a token flower : — I saw thee, fairest ! in the flush of youth, And sang — ("'twas but a common-place of truth, How cruelly true !) — " thy life is of a day" — And thou art wither 'd, like the rose, away ! GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. 27 Ah ! thou wcrt good as lovely ! But 'tis o'er — Thy soul shall speak from beauteous dust no more : Thy sweet form lieth beneath the unheeded sod, Cold and corrupted — but thy soul's with God ! Henry ! forgive — forgive the bursting tear, Which, as I write, bedews an angePs bier ! Forgive the grief commingling with my strain — Can the heart ever plead to speak in vain ? Go on thy way ! May God himself look down, And with his blessing all your labours crown ! And spare your life — long, very long — to prove A spring of happiness to all you love ! — So, when few fleeting years have rolled away, Thou may'st the prompting of thy heart obey ; So the " glad tidings of great joy" ere long May stream in heavenly mercies from thy tongue ! For me — who hope forgiveness from above For sins unnumbered against heavenly love — 38 THE VILLAGE GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. Pitying alike the hearts that ne'er relent, And him who sang — " the weak alone repent 1 " — I rather hold, against his erring song, The weak alone are obstinate in wrong. So let this final page speak peace to those Whom Satire made, in earlier youth, my foes, — Hearts, ne'er theless, the most removed from hate, Gentle, and generous, and affectionate ! Can these forgive the lay, repealed in shame, Poured from a school-boy's breast for spurious fame ? Can these forget the mischief idly done ? — Yet — though it rankle still — I am foe to none ! No foul resentments lurk within my mind, Hasty too oft — ne'er sullenly unkind. And if my satire caused a tear to flow, Oh ! none can tell the sting of keener woe, Whereby Remorse for one repented deed Hath made my own o'ertortured bosom bleed ! NOTES TO THE VILLAGE GRAMMAR- SCHOOL." Line 1. Note, while the soft light, &c. The weather, at the time of my affixing the date to this Epistle, and for about a week previous, was remarkably, indeed unseasonably, fine and brilliant Line 7. Where Prudhoe's ruined towers o'erlook the Tyne. Prudhoe is a beautiful ruin, — disfigured, however, (as is too commonly the case,) by incongruous farm-buildings erected within its walls. It was an ancient seat of the Percy family. Line 17. « ■ a mere child • When the author was removed from the school at Oving- ham, after a residence of nearly five years, he was only twelve years of age. 30 NOTES. Line 14. Happy beneath the kindest master's rule. The gentleman alluded to is the Rev. James Birkett, who has for many years kept an excellent initiatory grammar- school at Ovingham, and has had under his tuition two generations of the principal gentry of the county of North- umberland. Mr. Birkett is now in his seventy-fifth year. Line 53. Poor Nan?iy ! &c. This woman was generally known by the name of Nanyiy the Pe'th'er. Line 269. one repented deed The " Lines written under the impression of severe self- reproach" in the author's " Legend, Sj-cJ" p. 105, relate to this circumstance. POEMS. POEMS 33 TO A LADY, SINGULARLY REMARKABLE FOR THE UNION OF OREAT PERSONAL BEAUfV AN1> SUPERIOR MENTAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 'Tis not to breathe the sighs of rash desire That now I wake the murmurs of my shell ; Tis not to hymn the eye of softened fire That now I strike its chords — (wilt thou say well ?) No — "'tis the charm of mind, around thee throwing Its magic brilliance as thou mov'st along, Transcending e'en thy beauties purely glowing, That kindles every feeling into song. With thee to hold sweet converse, O how sweet ! Whether where Music wakes the sprightly dance, Or in the flowering arbour s fragrant seat, Or where the pearly shells of Ocean glance. 31 POEMS. To see those eyes enkindled as you speak, Sparkling or shadowed, as the theme inspires, — To mark the eloquently-glowing cheek, While fervent feeling all the angel fires, — Oh, 'tis such bliss ! — Dear lady ! think — to me, Who deeply worship mind's ennobling flame, Yet vanquished bow to Beauty's single claim — Think — how o'erpowering must th 1 enchantress be Who triumphs o'er the heart of man like thee — A Venus and a Pallas — matchless dame ! POKMS. ;<5 " NO MORE! No more ! — it is a spell of woe, Touching the heart's afflicted core, Withering each bud of joy below — How oft, alas, we sigh, " No more I 11 II. When Scotland's Mary sailed from France, Her sweet eyes lingered on the shore ! And their last far, fond, cneated glance, Was quenched in tears — that wept " No more ! v d 2 36 POEMS. III. When to the sad Ephesians Paul Bade farewell on the Asian shore, What waked their sorrow most of all ? ( That they should see his face no more !' IV. And so shall every earthly love Sink blighted ere its life be o'er ; But oh ! there is a world above Where they who meet shall part no more ! POEMS TO H G , Esq. ON THE DEATH OF HIS LOVELY WIFE, THE AUTHOR'S FIRST-COUSIN. Weep not for her ! — for could thy tears Recal the glorious spirit flown — To add some few short fleeting years Of bliss to those you both have known — Oh, woulcFst thou bring the angel down From that high world of light above, Where now she wears the unfading crown, And triumphs in the Saviour's love ? Yet weep o'er those, (if weep thou must,) The motherless sweet babes, bereft So soon of her — whose sacred dust And memory now alone are left ! 38 POEMS. No more shall that beloved hand Gently their infant footsteps guide — But, father ! still thy grief command ! The Lord — the Lord will yet provide ! Oh, check thy tears ! — for He who gave Hath taken to himself away ! And brightly springs o'er Mary's grave The rainbow of Eternal Day ! •2. less despotic throne To the true kings from whom 't was wrung, Not traitorously reared his own — What loyal bards his fame had sung ! Or if — to the Republic true — He had lived, fought, and died micro wn'd. What laurel chaplets, brightly new, His brows immortally had bound ! But he!— he trampled down men's rights. The victor of an hundred fights, POEMS. He was too much elate ! Puffed up, ami desperately blind, He scorned the feelings of mankind, The men — who made him great ! So the vast prize, which Badly cosl Unnumbered lives, was won and lost. In a brief bold career, Kim in a dazzling blaze of crime, Which brands Napoleon- through all time A tyrant name of fear ! Forgive, brave boy ! — forgive the la\ Which would thy sire's mistake portray, Ami warn thee from the rock, The rock, set in the rolling seas, Where tyrannous ambition's breeze Drives headlong to the shock ! oh ! mid the splendours of that court Where now tin militan porl 66 POEMS. Sweet soothing praise inspires, Should any whisperers wish t 1 impart Combustion to thy fever'd heart, To blow ambition's fires — Heed not their counsels, noble boy! Let no false flatteries destroy Thy peace, thy more than life; Let them not tempt thee out to be A scourge to freedom and the free, Heir to thy father's strife ! No ! — though e'en cver-rcstless Gaul (Unmindful of her shameful fall, Unhumblcd yet) should e'er Thy ex-imperial name invoke, And court from thee the grinding yoke- Do thou her folly spare : Be greater than thy sire ! — contemn Rebellion's proffered diadem ! 27th January. NOTES, NOTES. Page 38. No — 'tis the charm of mind, Sfc. The present writer would be the last man in the world to say with Pope, " Beauties, in vain your pretty eyes you roll *." Yet he despises even more that paltriness of feeling which leads some men to exclaim against the cultivation of the female intellect. He who wishes to degrade woman into " a soulless toy for tyrant's lust," is altogether unworthy of the sex, and can never love woman as she ought to be loved. In making these observations, I am very far from arguing in favour of the " Blue Stockings" generally. I have no particular penchant for a learned lady; but I cer- tainly think and maintain, that female charms are consider- ably heightened by a judicious refinement and culture of the wit, the understanding, and the imagination. Whenever I read the letters of " the charming Mary Mon- tague," I feel half in love with the writer. Surely her per- * I would rather say — Oh, not in vain your pretty eyes you roll ; Charms strike at once the senses and the soul. 70 NOTES. sonal attractions were enhanced by the brilliancy of her wit. But a woman's wit and talent must be feminine in quality and in exercise. She who aims at masculine attainments, and makes pretensions to masculine learning and judgment, becomes an indifferent man, and is good for nothing as a woman. Frenchmen are not, perhaps, such good judges of female character as we are ; yet the following observations of M. de Segur, on woman's literary character, seem just. " Je crois avoir deja dit (says he) que leur genie n'etait createur que dans les nuances. Leur esprit plus fin que profond analyse; definit avec plus de grace que de jus- tesse, avec plus de charme que de logique. On n'a point vu de femme concevoir un beau plan de trag^die ; mais si l'art de Corneille, de Racine, et de Voltaire, demande une force dont les femmes sont peut-etre incapables, jamais, dans le style epistolaire, aucun auteur ancien ou moderne n'atteignit et n'atteindra le style enchanteur de Mme. de Sevigne. Certaine classe de Romans semblent aussi leur appartenir. Sans doute Florian dans sa Galat6e a un merite rare qui lux est propre ; mais ce n'est pas la le style de Mme. Riccoboni ; ce n'est pas la ce charme particulier, cette grace de naturel que l'esprit le plus brillant ne peut obtenir ; au point que si Ton eut demande des lecons de son art a cette femme aima- ble, probablement elle n'aurait pu en donner. On peut dire qu'elle meme n'etait pas dans le secret de son style. " Ainsi done, en litterature meme, les attributions de chaque scene sont marquees par la nature. Toutes les fortes idees sont refusers aux femmes ; elles pensent, et rarement peuvent mediter ; elles perfectionnent, elles sai- sissent plus vivement que nous tous les rapports superficiels, NOTES. 71 qu'elles pr^sentent avec une grace qui leur appartient. Corame en amour elles sentent mieux que nous, elles en par- lent avec plus de finesse." — Les Femmes, tome second. Page 35. When Scotland's Mary, 8fc. The following is the original French of Mary's farewell to France. Adieu, plaisant pays de France, O ma patrie La plus chcrie, Qui as nourie ma jeune enfance ! Adieu, France! adieu, mes beaux jours ! La nef qui dejoint mes amours N'a cy de moi que la moitie ; Une parte te reste: elle est tienne ; Je la fie a ton amitie Pour que de l'autre il te souvienne. Page 40. Stick was Erostratus, who gave to flame Dianats shrine stupendous. This man's name is spelt variously — Erostratus, Heros- tratus, Eratostratus. The following account of his exploit is given in Kollin's Ancient History, vol. iv. " Alexander (the Great) came into the world the first year of the 106th Olympiad. (A. M. 3648.) 72 NOTES. " The very day he came into the world, the celebrated temple of Diana in Ephesus was burned. The reader knows, without doubt, that it was one of the seven wonders of the world. It had been built in the name and at the expense of all Asia Minor. A great number of years were employed in building it. Its length was four hundred and twenty-five feet, and its breadth two hundred and twenty. It was sup- ported by an hundred and twenty-seven columns, threescore feet high, which so many kings had caused to be wrought at a great expense, and by the most excellent artists, who en- deavoured to excel one another on this occasion. The rest of the temple was equal to the columns in magnificence. " Hegesias of Magnesia, according to Plutarch, says, ' That it was no wonder the temple was burned, because Diana was that day employed at the delivery of Olympias, to facilitate the birth of Alexander.' A reflection, says our author, so very cold, that it might have extinguished the fire. Cicero, who ascribes this saying to Timoeus, declares it a very smart one, at which I am very much surprised. Possibly the fondness he had for jokes made him not very delicate in things of this kind. " One Herostratus had fired that temple on purpose. Being put to the torture, in order to force him to confess his motive for committing so infamous an action, he confessed that it was the view of making himself known to posterity, and to immortalize his name, by destroying so noble a struc- ture. The states-general of Asia imagined they should pre- vent the success of his view, by publishing a decree to pro- hibit the mention of his name. However, their prohibition only excited a greater curiosity ; for scarce one of the his- torians of that age has omitted to mention so monstrous an NOTES. 73 extravagance, and at the same time have told us the name of the criminal."— (Book XV. Section 1.) Page 44. the flying flower of air. This beautifully metaphorical expression has been fre- quently adopted, especially by Orientalists. It is so obvious to a poetical mind, that many writers may have fancied it originally their own. In fact, I myself, when I penned the foregoing line, was not immediately aware that I had seen it before. Mr. Moore, in his Light of the Harem, speaks of maids " before whose sleepy eyes, " In their own bright Kathaian bowers, " Sparkle such rainbow butterflies, " That they might fancy the rich flowers, " That round them in the sun lay sighing, M Had been by magic all set flying." And to the words " rainbow butterflies," he appends this note, — " These are the butterflies which are called in the Chinese language Flying Leaves. Some of them have such shining colours, and are so variegated, that they may be i .died flying flowers; and indeed they are always produced in the finest flower gardens." — Dunn. Page 50. The microscope must be believ'd. Possibly the reader may consider this a complimentary ggeration; but it is not so. The butterfly in question G 71 NOTES. is painted on rice paper, and is so finely done, that the ap- plication of a microscope only renders the illusion greater. Page 61. The lasses ' ivi' the locks lint-white? I scarcely need refer the reader to Burns for " the lint* white locks." The chorus to one of his beautiful songs begins " Lassie \vi' the lint-white locks." The above line has a manifest reference to Scotland : when, however, I usethe expression, "filial spirit," a few lines below, it must not be understood in relation to Scot- land, but to the North generally. THE END. This day is published, in 8vo., THE LEGEND OF RAVENSWOOD, By the Author of THE VILLAGE GRAMMAR-SCHOOL, AND OTHER POEMS Printed for Hatciiard and Son, Piccadilly. LONDON: l'nnted by WILLIAM CLOWES, N'orthuinbttiar-il-i-ouit, Strand. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 • Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. F< JTL L-vPi: 8 2005 lA access nterlibrary Loa 11630Univers °ox951575 Angeles iCEiVED ! ity Rebeaiti l ibiai (/ b/t 3 The village JOliX -aar-school QSfc PR U938 M3hv ii ii ii ii i AA 000 374 148