LII. ON A MOTHER'S PORTRAIT.

The following lines, written by Cowper on the receipt of his mother's portrait, are full of pathos, and the poet's history confirms all the personal allusions to his own unhappiness. His mind, even in childhood, exhibited that gentleness, timidity and diffidence which ripened into such bitter fruit in his after life. Insanity developed itself, taking the form of religious melancholy, and he was confined for eighteen months to a lunatic asylum.

I.

OH that those lips had language! Life has passed
With me but roughly since I heard thee last;
Those lips are thine-thine own sweet smile I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;
Voice only fails, else how distinct they say,
"Grieve not, my child; chase all thy fears away!"
The meek intelligence of those dear eyes

(Blest be the art that can immortalize
The art that baffles Time's tyrannic claim
To quench it) here shines on me still the same.

II.

Faithful remembrancer of one so dear,

O welcome guest, though unexpected here!
Who bidd'st me honor with an artless song,
Affectionate, a mother lost so long.
I will obey-not willingly alone,

But gladly, as the precept were her own;
And, while that face renews my filial grief,
Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief,
Shall steep me in Elysian revery,

A momentary dream that thou art she.

III.

My mother! when I learned that thou wast dead,
Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed?
Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son,
Wretch even then, life's journey just begun?

Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a kiss;
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss:
Ah, that maternal smile! it answers, Yes.

IV.

I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day,
I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away,
And, turning from my nursery window, drew
A long, long sigh and wept a last adieu!

But was it such? It was. Where thou art gone,
Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore,
The parting word shall pass my lips no more!

V.

Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern,
Oft gave me promise of thy quick return:
What ardently I wished I long believed,
And, disappointed still, was still deceived;
By expectation every day beguiled,
Dupe of to-morrow, even from a child!
Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went,
Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent,

I learned, at last, submission to my lot,
But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot.

COWPER.

...

...

Ardent: L.

...

ElysFilial: fr.

SELECT ETYMOLOGIES.-Adieu : F.; fr. a, to, Dieu, God. ard'eo, ar'sum, to burn, ar'dens, burning; h., ardor, arson (the crime of willfully setting on fire a dwelling-house or other building). ian: fr. L. elys'ium, Gr. ĕlu'sion, the abode of the blessed. L. fil'ius, a son, fil'ia, a daughter; h., af-filiate, to adopt, to receive as an associate or member. . . . Nursery: fr. L. nu'trio, nutri'tum, to nourish, to suckle; h., nourish, nurse, nurture, nutriment, nutritious. ... Reverie : fr. the F. rêver, to dream.... Tyrant: L. tyran'nus; Gr. turan'nõs, a ruler, a king.... Window: Icelandic, vindauga, lit., wind-eye; old English, windor, i. e., win-door.

It should be borne in mind that there are many suffixes or terminations which are not significant, but simply paragogical-that is, they are letters or syllables without meaning, and merely serve to lengthen the words.

LIII.-ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH NATION.

1 THE great-grandsons of those who had fought under William, and the great-grandsons of those who had fought under Harold, began to draw near to each other in friendship; and the first pledge of their reconciliation was the Great Charter, won by their united exertions and framed for their common benefit. Here commences the history of the English nation. The history of the preceding events is the history of wrongs inflicted and sustained by various tribes, which, indeed, all dwelt on English ground, but which regarded each other with aversion such as has scarcely ever existed between communities separated by physical barriers. For even the mutual animosity of countries at war with each other is languid when compared with the animosity of nations which, morally separated, are yet locally intermingled.

2. In no country has the enmity of race been carried farther than in England. In no country has that enmity been more completely effaced. The stages of the process by which the hostile elements were melted down into one homogeneous mass are not accurately known to us. But it is certain that, when John became king, the distinction between Saxons and Normans was strongly marked, and that before the end of the reign of his grandson it had almost disappeared. In the time of Richard I. the ordinary imprecation of a Norman gentleman was, "May I become an Englishman!" His ordinary form of indignant denial was, "Do you take me for an Englishman?" The descendant of such a gentleman a hundred years later was proud of the English name.

3. The sources of the noblest rivers which spread fertility over continents and bear richly laden fleets to the sea are to be sought in wild and barren mountain tracts, incorrectly laid down in maps and rarely explored by travelers. To such a tract the history of England during the thirteenth century may not inaptly be compared. Sterile and obscure as is that portion of her annals, it is there that we must seek for the origin of her freedom, prosperity and glory. Then it was that

the great English people was formed, that the national character began to exhibit those peculiarities which it has ever since retained, and that our fathers became emphatically islanders-islanders not merely in geographical position, but in their politics, their feelings and their manners.

4. Then first appeared with distinctness that constitution which has ever since, through all changes, preserved its identity, that constitution of which all the other free constitutions in the world are copies, and which, in spite of some defects, deserves to be regarded as the best under which any great society has ever yet existed during many ages. Then it was that the House of Commons, the archetype of all the representative assemblies which now meet either in the Old or in the New World, held its first sittings. Then it was that the common law rose to the dignity of a science and rapidly became a not unworthy rival of the imperial jurisprudence.

5. Then it was that the courage of those sailors who manned the rude barks of the Cinque-ports first made the flag of England terrible on the seas. Then it was that the most ancient colleges which still exist at both the great national seats of learning were founded. Then was formed that language, less musical indeed than the languages of the south, but in force, in richness, in aptitude for all the highest purposes of the poet, the philosopher and the orator, inferior to the tongue of Greece alone. Then, too, appeared the first dawn of that noble literature, the most splendid and the most durable of the many glories of England. MACAULAY.

TO THE SKYLARK.

I.

HAIL to thee, blithe spirit!

Bird thou never wert,
That from heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart,

In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Higher still and higher

II.

From the earth thou springest; Like a cloud of fire,

The blue deep thou wingest,

And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

All the earth and air

III.

With thy voice is loud;

As, when night is bare,

From one lonely cloud

The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.

Teach us, sprite or bird,

IV.

What sweet thoughts are thine;

I have never heard

Praise of love or wine

That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.

Chorus hymeneal,

Or triumphal chant,

V.

Matched with thine would be all

But an empty vaunt

A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

VI.

With thy clear keen joyance

Languor cannot be;

Shadow of annoyance

Never came near thee;

Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.