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The world is full of horror, troubles, slights: Woods' harmless shades have only true delights.

My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow
With thy green mother in some shady grove,
When immelodious winds but made thee move,
And birds their romage did on thee bestow.
Since that dear voice which did thy sounds ap-
prove,

Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow,
Is reft from earth to tune the spheres above,
What art thou but a harbinger of woe?
Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more,
But orphan wailings to the fainting ear,
Each stroke a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear;
For which be silent as in woods before:
Or if that any hand to touch thee deign,
Like widowed turtle still her loss complain.

Sweet bird that sing'st away the early hours
Of winters past or coming, void of care.
Well pleased with delights which present are,
Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling
flowers-

To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bowers
Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare,
And what dear gifts on thee he did not spare,
A stain to human sense in sin that lowers.
What soul can be so sick which by thy songs
(Attired in sweetness) sweetly is not driven
Quite to forget earth's turmoils, spites, and

wrongs,

And lift a reverend eye and thought to heaven! Sweet, artless songster! thou my mind dost raise To airs of spheres--yes, and to angels' lays.

Stay, passenger, see where enclosed lies
The paragon of princes, fairest frame
Time, nature, place, could show to mortal eyes,
In worth, wit, virtue, miracle of fame:

At least that part the earth of him could claim
This marble holds-hard like the Destinies-

For as to his brave spirit and glorious name,
The one the world, the other fills the skies.
'Th' immortal amaranthus, princely rose;
Sad violet, and that sweet flower that bears
In sanguine spots the tenor of our woes,
Spread on this stone, and wash it with your tears;
Then go and tell from Gades unto Ind
You saw where earth's perfections were confined.

Of mortal glory O soon darkened ray!

O winged joys of man, more swift than wind!
O fond desires, which in our fancies stray!
O trait'rous hopes, which do our judgments blind!
Lo, in a flash that light is gone away
Which dazzle did each eye, delight each mind,
And, with that sun from whence it came com-

bined,

Now makes more radiant heaven's eternal day.
Let Beauty now bedew her cheeks with tears;
Let widowed Music only roar and groan;
Poor Virtue, get thee wings and mount the
spheres,

For dwelling-place on earth for thee is none! Death hath thy temple razed, love's empire foiled,

The world of honour, worth, and sweetness spoiled.

I know that all beneath the moon decays;
And what by mortals in this world is brought,
In time's great periods shall return to nought;
That fairest states have fatal nights and days.
I know that all the Muses' heavenly lays,
With toil of sprite which are so dearly bought,
As idle sounds, of few or none are sought;
That there is nothing lighter than vain praise.
I know frail beauty's like the purple flower
To which one morn oft birth and death affords;
That love ajarring is of mind's accords,
Where sense and will bring under reason's power:
Know what I list, this all cannot me move,
But that, alas! I both must write and love.

ARTHUR JOHNSTON.

BORN 1587-DIED 1641.

ARTHUR JOHNSTON, M.D., next after Bu- | afterwards elected rector of that university. chanan the best Latin poet of Scotland, was born in the year 1587 at Caskieben, the seat of his ancestors, near Inverury, in Aberdeenshire. He is supposed to have been a student at Marischal College, Aberdeen, as he was

With the purpose of studying medicine he resided for some time at Padua, Italy, where, in 1610, the degree of M. D. was conferred upon him. He subsequently travelled in Germany, Denmark, and Holland, and then set

tled in France, where he acquired considerable | been usual in Scotland to maintain the older eminence as a Latin poet. He is said by Sir poet against all the world. I am, nevertheless, Thomas Urquhart to have been laureated a inclined to think that Johnston's Psalms, all poet in Paris at the early age of twenty-three. of which are in elegiac metre, do not fall far He remained for twenty years in France, a short of those of Buchanan, either in elegance period during which he was twice married to of style or in correctness of Latinity." Three ladies whose names are unknown, but who editions of Johnston's Psalms were printed at bore him thirteen children to transmit his Benson's expense, with an elegant life of the name to posterity. On his return to Scotland | translator prefixed. One of these, in quarto, in 1632 he was appointed physician to the with a fine portrait of Johnston by Vertue, king, it is supposed through the recommenda- after Jamesone, and copiously illustrated with tion of Archbishop Laud. The same year he notes, was published in 1741. Johnston, published at Aberdeen his Parerga and Epi- sometimes called the Scottish Ovid, died in grammata; and in 1633 he printed at London 1641 at Oxford, whither he had gone to visit a specimen of his new Latin version of the a married daughter who resided there. Dr. Psalms of David, which he dedicated to Laud. William Johnston, professor of mathematics A complete translation of the whole, under in Marischal College, Aberdeen, a brother of the title of Psalmorum Davidis Paraphrasum | the poet, was a man of considerable celebrity. Poetica, was published at Aberdeen and London in 1637, with translations of the Te Deum, Creed, Decalogue, &c., subjoined. Besides these he translated the Song of Solomon into Latin elegiac verse, published in 1633. He also wrote Musa Aulica, or commendatory verses on some of the most distinguished literary men of his time; and edited Delitia Poetarum Scotorum, in which he introduced many of his own pieces. Dr. Johnson was pleased to say of this work that "it would do honour to any country."

Wodrow says "He was ane learned and experienced physician. He wrote on the mathematics. His skill in the Latin was truly Ciceronian."

Robert Chambers, in writing of our author, says, "This poet, whose chief characteristic was the elegance with which he expressed his own simple feelings as a poet, in the language appropriate to the customs and feelings of a past nation, has left in his Epigrammata an address to his native spot; and although Caskieben is a piece of very ordinary Scottish scenery, Critics have been divided as to the compara- it is surprising how much he has made of it by tive merits of Buchanan's and Johnston's trans- the mere force of his own early associations. lations of the Psalms. About the middle of With the minuteness of an enthusiast, he does the eighteenth century it was the subject of a not omit the circumstance that the hill of controversy in which Lauder, and an English Benachie, a conical elevation about eight miles gentleman named Benson, stood forward as distant, casts its shadow over Caskieben at the zealous advocates of Johnston; while Mr. the periods of the equinox." We give a transLove and Ruddiman ably and successfully de-lation of this epigram, which unites a specimen fended Buchanan. Hallam remarks, "Though of Johnston's happiest original effort with cirthe national honour may seem equally secure cumstances personally connected with his hisby the superiority of either, it has, I believe, tory.

CASKIEBEN.

Here, traveller, a vale behold
As fair as Tempe, famed of old,
Beneath the northern sky!
Here Urie, with her silver waves,
Her banks, in verdure smiling, laves,
And winding wimples by.

Here, towering high, Benachie spreads
Around on all his evening shades,
When twilight gray comes on:
With sparkling gems the river glows;
As precious stones the mountain shows
As in the East are known.

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CHARLES I., King of Great Britain, was born at Dunfermline Palace, which was the dotarial or jointure house of his mother the queen, on Nov. 19, 1600, the very day that the Earl of Gowrie and his brother were dismembered at the cross of Edinburgh for their share in the celebrated conspiracy. King James remarked with surprise that the principal incidents of his own domestic and personal history had taken place on that particular day of the month; he had been born, he said, on the 19th of June; he first saw his wife on the 19th of May; and his two former children, as well as this one, had been born on the 19th of different months. Charles was only two and a half years old when his father was called to London to fill the throne of Elizabeth. The young prince was left in Scotland in charge of the Earl of Dunfermline, but joined his father in July, 1603, in company with the rest of the royal family. His elder brother, Henry, dying in 1612, Charles was four years later formally created | Prince of Wales. He succeeded to the throne in 1625, and on June 22 was married to Henrietta Marie, daughter of the illustrious Henry IV. of France. We cannot follow the unfortunate Stuart through his kingly career-the political troubles and civil wars, closing with the triumph of Cromwell and the execution of Charles, June 30, 1649, in front of his own palace of Whitehall.

- DIED 1649.

In literature Charles is entitled to mention chiefly as the reputed author of a work published after his death entitled Eikon Basilike, which contained a series of reflections, proceeding from himself, respecting various situations in which he was placed towards the close of his life. This in a short space of time went through forty-eight editions, exciting a keen interest in the fate of the king, and high admiration of his mental gifts. He was also the author of some stanzas, not devoid of merit, which entitle him to a place among the minor poets of his native land. We are indebted to Bishop Burnet for their preservation. He gives them in his Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, saying, "A very worthy gentleman who had the honour of waiting on him there (at Carisbrooke Castle), and was much trusted by him, copied them out from the original, who voucheth them to be a true copy." The literary works attributed to King Charles were, after his death, collected and published under the title of Reliquiæ Sacræ Carolina. They consist chiefly of letters and a few state papers, and of the "Eikon Basilike," but his claim to the authorship of the latter has been much disputed; Dr. Wordsworth is certain that the king wrote it, Sir James Mackintosh is equally positive that he did not; and the question appears to be no nearer settlement than that of the authorship

of Junius, or the true character of the king's grandmother Mary Stuart. Charles was, how ever, certainly among the most elegant English

writers of his time, and a friend to the fine arts, which he greatly encouraged in the early part of his reign.

MAJESTY IN MISERY.1

Great Monarch of the World! from whose arm springs

The potency and power of kings,
Record the royal woe, my sufferings.

Nature and law, by thy divine decree (The only root of righteous loyalty), With this dim diadem invested me:

With it the sacred sceptre, purple robe, Thy holy union, and the royal globe; Yet I am levelled with the life of Job.

The fiercest furies that do daily tread
Upon my grief, my gray discrowned head,
Are those that owe my bounty for their bread.

Tyranny bears the title of taxation,
Revenge and robbery are reformation,
Oppression gains the name of sequestration.

Great Britain's heir is forced into France, Whilst on his father's head his foes advance: Poor child! he weeps out his inheritance.

With my own power my majesty they wound, In the king's name the king himself's uncrown'd;

So doth the dust destroy the diamond.

My life they prize at such a slender rate,
That in my absence they draw bills of hate
To prove the king a traitor to the state.
Felons obtain more privilege than I,
They are allowed to answer ere they die;
'Tis death for me to ask the reason, Why.
But, sacred Saviour! with thy words I woo
Thee to forgive, and not be bitter to
Such as thou know'st do not know what they do.

Augment my patience, nullifie my hate,
Preserve my issue, and inspire my mate;
Yet though we perish, bless this church and
Vota dabunt quæ bella negarunt.

state!

ON A QUIET CONSCIENCE. Close thine eyes, and sleep secure; Thy soul is safe, thy body sure: He that guards thee, he that keeps, Never slumbers, never sleeps. A quiet conscience in the breast Has only peace, has only rest: The music and the mirth of kings Are out of tune unless she sings. Then close thine eyes in peace, and sleep

secure

No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure!

FRANCIS SEMPILL.

BORN 1605 DIED 1680. (?)

The SEMPILLS or SEMPLES of Beltrees, among the earliest and most successful cultivators of Scottish song, were small landowners or lairds in Renfrewshire. Sir James Sempill wrote

1 The entire poem consists of twenty four verses of very unequal merit. Archbishop Trench says: "I have dealt somewhat boldly with this poem, of its twenty

The Packman and the Priest," a satire in which the absurdities of Popery are exposed. He was a favourite with James VI., by whom he was knighted. Robert, the son and suc

four triplets omitting all but ten these ten seeming to me to constitute a fine poem, which the twenty-four fail to do." We prefer the eleven as given above. ED.

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and broad glee of the latter being equalled by the admirable naïveté and grace of the former. Speaking of one of these songs the critic whom we have quoted remarks: The freedom with which some of the characters are drawn has | gone far to exclude the song (The Blythesome Bridal') from company which calls itself polished. I quarrel not with matters of tastebut taste is a whimsical thing. Ladies of all ranks will gaze by the dozen and hour on the unattired grace and proportion of the old statues, and feel them o'er like the wondering miller in Ramsay's exquisite tale, lest glamour had beguiled their een; but the colour will come to their cheeks, and the fans to their faces, at some over-warm words in our old min

cessor of Sir James, had the merit of first using a form of stanza in the well-known "Elegy on Habbie Simpson, the Piper of Kilbarchan," which Allan Ramsay and Robert Burns adopted and rendered popular. The "Sempill Ballates," a series of historical political and satirical Scottish poems attributed to him, have been recently republished in Edinburgh. Francis, the son of Robert, and the last of the rhyming lairds, was born at Beltrees early in the seventeenth century, probably about the year 1605. He was a warm adherent of the Stuarts, and wrote several panegyrics on James II. while Duke of York and Albany, and on the birth of his children. He was also the author of a piece of considerable merit, entitled "The Banish-strels; whatever is classical is pure." ment of Poverty;" but it is as the reputed author "Maggie Lauder" was a favourite song in of several admirable songs that he is chiefly the American camp during revolutionary days, indebted for the honourable place accorded to and was often sung to the commander-in-chief him among the song-writers of Scotland. Of by stout old Putnam. An old chronicler says: his personal history nothing is known, not even the date of his death, which is believed to have occurred about the year 1680.

Allan Cunningham says: "Tradition of late has provided authors for some of our favourite songs: and since authentic history declines to | chronicle those who furnish matter for present and future mirth, I can see no harm in accept ing the aid of traditionary remembrance. On such authority, aided by the less doubtful testimony of family papers, Francis Semple of Beltrees has obtained the reputation of writing three popular songs, The Blythesome Bridal,' 'Maggie Lauder,' and 'She rose and loot me in.' I have heard the tradition, but I have not seen, the family manuscripts; and though I am not obliged to believe what I cannot with certainty contradict, yet I have no right to discredit what honest men have seriously asserted; the story has been for years before the world, and if any be sceptical they are also silent. Semple is of itself a worthy name. I am glad tradition has taken its part; besides, we owe much poetic pleasure to the ancestors of Francis, who wrote, like their descendant, with great ease and freedom: and why should not the mantle descend?" There are few more famous Scottish songs than "Fy, let us a' to the Bridal" and "Maggie Lauder," the humour

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This afternoon the provincial congress of New York gave an elegant entertainment to General Washington and his suite, the general and staff officers, and the commanding officer of the different regiments in or near the city. Many patriotic toasts were offered and drank with the greatest pleasure and decency. After the toasts little Phil of the Guard was brought in to sing H's new campaign song, and was joined by all the under officers, who seemed much animated by the accompanying of Clute's drum-sticks and Aaron's fife. Our good General Putnam got sick and went to his quarters before dinner was over, and we missed him a marvel, as there is not a chap in the camp who can lead him in the Maggie Lauder song."

The hero of this beautiful song was Robert Simpsonne, alias "Rob the Ranter," who was also celebrated by Robert Sempill as

Habbie Simpson, the Piper of Kilbarchan." A grandson of the poet Francis deserves to be incidentally mentioned as a remarkable instance of longevity. He died in 1789 at the age of 103. He was the first in the nomination of justices of the peace for Scotland in 1708, being the year after the union, and was at the date of his decease undoubtedly the oldest judicial functionary of that or any other rank in the British Empire.

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