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seconds, however, he sank, and was borne a little heavy breathing and an occasional groan. Mean. to the rear.”—vol. ii. p. 344.
time the French had given way, and were flying
in all directions. The grenadier officers, seeing But a sadder task remains to be perform this, called out to those around him, "See, they ed—if indeed a death so heroic, so glorious
The words caught the ears of the dying as that of Wolfe can be deemed sad.
man; he raised himself like one aroused from know of no subject more noble, and have sleep, and asked, eagerly, “Who runs ? The
enemy, Sir,' answered the officer; 'they give way never seen any more nobly treated.
everywhere.' Go one of you to Colonel Burton,
said Wolfe, ‘tell him to march Webbe's (the 48th) " While the British troops were carrying all regiment with all speed down to the St. Charles before them, their young general's life was ebbing River, to cut off the retreat.' His voice grew fast away. When struck for the third time, he faint as he spoke, and he turned as if seeking an sank down; he then supported himself for a few easier position on his side ; when he had given minutes in a sitting posture, with the assistance this last order, he seemed to feel that he had done of Lieutenant Brown, Mr. Henderson, a volun- his duty, and added, feebly but distinctly, “Now, teer, and a private soldier, all of the grenadier God be praised, I die happy.! His eyes then company of the 22d; Colonel Williamson of the closed; and, after a few convulsive movements, Royal Artillery afterward went to his aid. From he became still. Despite the anguish of his time to time Wolfe tried with his faint hand to wounds, he died happy, for, through the mortal clear away the death-mist that gathered on his shades that fell upon his soul, there rose over the sight; but the effect seemed vain ; for presently unknown world's horizon the dawn of an eternal he lay back, and gave no signs of life beyond a morning.”
NOW AS EVER.
BY MARY HOWITT.
We were proud of her fair face, wife !
-And I have tamely stood,
In her betrayer's blood !
There are furrows on thy brow, wife,
Thy hair is thin and gray,
Hath sorrow stol'n away.
The rose hath left thy cheek,
Is wasted now and weak.
But thy heart is just as warm, wife,
As when we first were wed;
And thy smooth cheek was red.
We thought not then of care ;
We now have none to spare !
The little child we laid,
Beneath the yew-tree's shade;
We said with foolish tongue, —
Who took that child so young!
Who lived to manhood's prime-
Who died before his time !
A thing of sin and shame,-
When they but hear her name.
I nursed her on my knee,
Were never taught by thee.
I had such evil thoughts, wife,
I cursed him to his face!
–The rich know no disgrace!
-For that I did not care!
Were thoughts of thy despair.
That calms my maddened brain;
T'hy look of patient pain;
Thy bloodless cheeks and wan;
Whose beauty now is gone.
They fill my eyes with tears.
Through these long thirty years,
What God appointeth here;
Another bitter tear!
Be this our only prayer,
Back to the Father's care !
Oh God, who reign’st above,
For one sure solace-love!
From Blackwood's Magazine.
DIES BOREALES.-NO. V.
CHRISTOPHER UNDER CANVASS.
Camp at Cladich. SCENE— The Pavilion. BULLER. That must be a deluge of—hail. TIME — After breakfast. North — TAL
- Tal- Talboys. So much the better. Hitherto BOYS—SEWARD-BULLER.
we have had but rain. “Mysterious horrors !
“ Twas a rough night.
My young remembrance cannot parallel like August than June.
A fellow to it.” Talboys. The very word, my dear sir. It is indeed most august weather.
North. Suppose we resume yesterday's North. Five weeks to-day since we pitch- conversation ? ed our camp--and we have had the Beautiful Talboys. By all manner of means.
Let's of the Year in all its varieties; but the spite- sit close—and speak loud—else all will be ful Season seems to owe you some old grudge, dumb show. The whole world's one waterTalboys—and to make it a point still to assail fall. your arrival with “ thunder, lightning, and North. Take up Knight on Taste. Look with rain.”
at the dog-ear. Talboys. “I tax not you, ye Elements ! Talboys. “ The most perfect instance of with unkindness.” I feel assured they mean this kind is the Tragedy of Macbeth, in which nothing personal to me—and though this the character of an ungrateful traitor, mursort of work may not be very favorable to derer, usurper, and tyrant, is made in the Angling, 'tis quite a day for tidying our highest degree interesting by the sublime Tackle--and making up our Books. But | flashes of generosity, magnanimity, courage, don't you think, sir, that the Tent would and tenderness, which continually burst forth look nothing the worse with some artificial in the manly but ineffective struggle of every light in this obscuration of the natural ? exalted quality that can dignify and adorn the
North. Put on the gas. Pretty invention, human mind, first against the allurements of the Gutta Percha tube, isn't it?' The Elec- ambition, and afterward against the pangs of tric Telegraph is nothing to it. Tent illumi- remorse and horrors of despair. Though his nated in a moment, at a pig's whisper. wife has been the cause of all his crimes and
Talboys. Were I to wish, sir, for anything sufferings, neither the agony of his distress, to happen now to the weather at all, it would
nor the fury of his rage, ever draw from him be just ever so little toning down of that one an angry word, or upbraiding expression toconstituent of the orchestral harmony of the ward her ; but even when, at her instigation, Storm wbich men call—howling. The Thun he is about to add the murder of his friend der is perfect—but that one Wind Instru- and late colleague to that of his sovereign, ment is slightly out of tune-he is most kinsman, and benefactor, he is chiefly anxious anxious to do his best—his motive is unim- that she should not share the guilt of his peachable; but he has no idea how much blood :— Be innocent of the knowledge, more impressive—how much more popular, dearest chuck! till thou applaud the deed.' would be a somewhat subdued style. There How much more real grandeur and exaltaagain—that's positive discord-does he mean tion of character is displayed in one such to disconcert the Concert—or does he forget simple expression from the heart, than in all that he is not a Solo ?
the labored pomp of rhetorical amplification."
North, What think you of that, Tal- gyric till he grows faint-and is led off speechboys ?
less; others take it up-and we are thusTalboys. Why, like much of the cant of and in other ways--prepared to look on Maccriticism, it sounds at once queer and com- beth as a paragon of bravery, loyalty, and mon-place. I seem to have heard it before patriotism. many thousand times, and yet never to have Talboys. So had seemed Cawdor. heard it at all till this moment.
North. Good. Shakspeare sets Macbeth
. North. Seward ?
before us under the most imposing circumSEWARD. Full of audacious assertions, that stances of a warlike age ; but of his inner can be forgiven but in the belief that Payne character as yet he has told us nothing we Knight had never read the tragedy, even are to find that out for ourselves during the with the most ordinary attention.
Drama. If there be sublime flashes of North. Buller ?
generosity, magnanimity, and every exalted BULLER. Cursed nonsense. Beg pardon, virtue, we have eyes to see, unless indeed sir-sink cursed—mere nonsense-out and blinded by the lightning—and if the sublime
-1 out nonsense—nonsense by itself nonsense. flashes be frequent, and the struggle of every North. How so?
exalted quality that can adorn the human Buller. A foolish libel on Shakspeare. mind, though ineffectual, yet strong-why, Was he the man to make the character of then, we must not only pity and forgive, but an ungrateful traitor, murderer, usurper, and admire and love the traitor, murderer, tyrant, interesting by sublime flashes of gen- usurper, and tyrant,” with all the poetical erosity, magnanimity, courage, and tender- and philosophical fervor of that amiable enness, and—do I repeat the words correctly? | thusiast, Mr. Payne Knight. -of every exalted quality that can dignify Buller. Somehow or other I cannot help and adorn the human mind ?
having an affection for Macbeth. North. Buller-keep up that face-you North. You had better leave the Tent, are positively beautiful
sir. BULLER. No quizzing—I am ugly-but I RULLER. No. I won't. have a good figure-look at that leg, sir ! North. Give us then, my dear Buller, your North. I prefer the other.
Theory of the Thane's character. Talboys. There have been Poets among BULLER. “ Theory, God bless you, I have us who fain would--if they could-have so none to give, sir.'
Warlike valor, as you violated nature; but their fabrications have said, is marked first and last—at the openbeen felt to be falsehoods--and no quackery ing, and at the end. Surely a good and may resuscitate drowned lies.
great quality, at least for poetical purposes. NORTH. Shakspeare nowhere insists on the High general reputation won and held. The virtues of Macbeth—he leaves their measure opinion of the wounded soldier was that of indeterminate. That the villain may have the whole army ; and when he himself says, had some good points we are all willing to “I have bought golden opinions from all believe-few people are without them ;-nor sorts of people, which would be worn now have I any quarrel with those who believe in their newest gloss, not thrown aside so he had high qualities, and is corrupted by soon,” I accept that he then truly describes ambition. But what high qualities had he his position in men's minds. shown before Shakspeare sets him personally NORTH. All true. But we soon gain, too, before us to judge for ourselves?' Valor -- this insight into his constitution, that the courage-intrepidity-call it what you will pillar upon which he has built up life is Rep
utation, and not Respect of Law--not Self
Respect; that the point which Shakspeare " For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that above all others intends in him, is that his is name,)
à spirit not self-stayed-leaning upon outDisdaining fortune, with his brandished steel,
ward stays—and thereforeWhich smoked with bloody execution
BULLER. Liable to all-
North. Don't take the words out of my And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to mouth, sir ; or rather, don't put them into him,
my mouth, sir. Till be unseam'd him from the nave to the BULLER. Touchy to-day. chaps,
North. The strongest expression of this And fixed his head upon our battlements.”
character is his throwing himself upon the The " bleeding Serjeant” pursues his pane-1 illicit divinings of futurity, upon counselors
VOL. XIX. NO. I.
known for infernal; and you see what sub- scure—manner uncouth-why really, Buller, jugating sway the Three Spirits take at once all things considered, Shakspeare has shown over him.
On the contrary, the Thaness is himself a very pretty Penny-a-liner. self-stayed ; and this difference grounds the Buller. I cry you mercy, sir. poetical opposition of the two personages.
SEWARD. Where are the Witches on their In Macbeth, I suppose a certain splendor of first appearance, at the very opening of the character-magniticence of action high-a wonderful Tragedy ? certain impure generosity-mixed up of some North. An open Place, with thunder and kindliness and sympathy, and of the pleasure lightning. from self-elation and self-expansion in a vic- SEWARD. I know that—the words are writtorious career, and of that ambition which ten down. feeds on public esteem.
North. Somewhere or other—anywhere BULLER. Ay-just so, sir.
-nowhere. North. Now mark, Buller--this is a BULLER. In Fife or Forfar? Or some one character which, if the path of duty and or other of your outlandish, or inlandish, the path of personal ambition were laid Lowland or Highland Counties? out by the Sisters to be one and the same North. Not knowing, can't say. Probpath, might walk through life in sunlight and ably. honor, and invest the tomb with proud and
SEWARD. revered trophies. To show such a spirit
“ When the Hurly Burly's done, wrecked and hurled into infamy—the ill-wo
When the Battle's lost and won." ven sails rent into shreds by the whirlwind is a lesson worth the Play and the Poet- What Hurly Burly? What Battle? That and such a lesson as I think Shakspeare like in which Macbeth is then engaged? And ly to have designed—or, without preaching which is to be brought to issue ere “set about lessons, such an ethical revelation as I of sun ” of the day on which think likely to have caught hold upon Shak- | Three Witches ?” speare's intelligence. It would seem to me a North. Let it be so. dramatically-poetical subject. The mighti
SEWARD. est of temptations occur to a mind, full of
Upon the heath, powers, endowed with available moral ele
'There to meet with Macbeth." ments, but without set virtue—without principles—.“
-“ and down goes all before it.' The Witches, then, are to meet with MacIf the essential delineation of Macbeth be this beth on the heath on the evening of the Batconflict of Moral elements—of good and evil tie? -of light and darkness--I see a very poeti- NORTH. It would seem so. cal conception; if merely a hardened and
SEWARD. They are “posters over sea and bloody hypocrite from the beginning, I see land”—and, like whiffs of lightning, can out
But I need not say to you, gentle- sail and outride the sound of thunder. But men, that all this is as far as may be from Macbeth and Banquo must have had on their the exaggerated panegyric on his character by seven-league boots. Payne Knight.
North. They must. TALBOYS. Macbeth is a brave man—so is
SEWARD. Banquo—so are we Four, brave men—they in their way and day—we in ours—they as
“ A drum, a drum! Celts and Soldiers- we as Saxons and Civil
Macbeth doth come.” jans—and we had all need to be so-for hark ! in the midst of ours, “ Thunder and Light. Was he with the advance guard of the ning, and enter Three Witches."
Army? Buller. I cannot say that I understand NORTH. Not unlikely—attended by his distinctly their first Confabulation.
staff. Generals, on such occasions, usually North. That's a pity. A sensible man ride-but perhaps Macbeth and Banquo, be
— like you should understand everything. ing in kilts, preferred walking in their sevenBut what if Shakspeare himself did not dis- league boots. Thomas Campbell has said, tinctly understand it? There
have “When the drum of the Scottish Army is been original errata in the report, as heard on the wild heath, and when I fancy tended by himself from notes take in short-it advancing with its bowmen in front, and hand on the spotlight bad-noise worse its spears and banners in the distance, I am -voices of Weird Sisters worst-matter ob- | always disappointed with Macbeth's entrance
at the head of a few kilted actors.” The army BOLLER. Let us have one now, I beseech may have been there—but they did not see you, sir. the Weirds-nor, I believe, did the Weirds North. Not now. see them. With Macbeth and Banquo alone Buller. No sleep in the Tent till we have had they to do; we see no Army at that it, sir. I do dearly love astounding discovhour - we hear no drums— we are deaf even eries—and at this time of day, an astounding to the Great Highland Bagpipe, though He, discovery in Shakspeare! May it not prove you may be sure, was not dumb-all“ plaided | a Mare's Nest ! and plumed in their tartan array” the High- North. The Tragedy of Macbeth is a proland Host ceased to be—like vanished shad- digious Tragedy, because in it the Chariot of ows—at the first apparition of “those so Nemesis visibly rides in the lurid thunderwithered and so wild in their attire” - not of sky. Because in it the ill motions of a hu
a the earth though on it, and alive somewhere man soul, which Theologians account for by till this day-while generations after genera- referring them all to suggestions of Beelzetions of mere Fighting Men have been dis- bub, are expounded in visible, mysterious, banded by dusty Death.
tangible, terrible shape and symbolization by SEWARD. I wish to know where and when the Witches. It is great by the character had been the Fighting ? The Norwegian- and person, workings and sufferings, of Lady one Sweno, had come down very hand- Macbeth—by the immense poetical power in somely at Inchcolm with ten thousand dol-doing the Witches—mingling for once in the lars—a sum in those days equal to a million world the Homely, Grotesque, and the Subof money in Scotland
lime-extinguishing the Vulgar in the SubNorth. Seward, speak on subjects you lime-by the bond, whatsoever it be, between understand. What do you know, sir, of the val- Macbeth and his wife--by making us tolerate ue of money in those days in Scotland ? her and bimSeward. But where had been all the Fight
Buller. Didn't I say that in my own way, ing? There would seem to have been two sir ? And didn't you reprove me for saying hurley-burleys.
it, and order me out of the Tent ? North. I see your drift, Seward. Time NORTH. And what of the Witches ? and place, through the First Scene of the BULLER. Had you not stopt me. First Act, are past finding out. It has been now, sir, that nobody understands Shakasked—Was Shakspeare ever in Scotland ? speare's HECATE. Who is she? Each of Never. There is not one word in this Trag- the Three Weirds is = one Witch + one of edy leading a Scotsman to think so- - many the Three Fates—therefore the union of two showing he never had that happiness. Let incompatible natures—more than in a Cenhim deal with our localities according to his taur. Oh! sir! what a hand that was which own sovereign will and pleasure, as a prevail-bound the two into oneinseverably! There ing Poet. But let no man point out his deal- they are forever as the Centaurs are. But ings with our localities as proofs of his hav- the gross Witch prevails; which Shakspeare ing such knowledge of them as implies per- needed for securing belief, and he has it, full. sonal acquaintance with them gained by a Hecate, sir, comes in to balance the disprolonger or shorter visit in Scotland. The portion — she lifts into Mythology — and
Fights at the beginning seem to be in Fife. strengthens the mythological tincture. So The Soldier, there wounded, delivers his re- does the “ Pit of Acheron.” That is classilation at the King's Camp before Forres. He cal. To the best of my remenibrance, no has crawled, in half-an-hour, or an hour—-or mention of any such Pit in the Old or New two hours--say seventy, eighty, or a hun. Statistical Account of Scotland. dred miles or more--crossing the ridge of the North. And, in the Incantation Scene, Grampians. Rather smart. I do not know those Apparitions ! Mysterious, ominous, what you think here of Time; but I think picturesque—and self-willed. They are comthat Space is here pretty well done for. The manded by the Witches, but under a limitaTime of the Action of Shakspeare's Plays tion. Their oracular power is their own. has never yet, so far as I know, been, in any They are of unknown orders—as if for the one Play, carefully investigated--never in occasion created in Hell. vestigated at all; and I now announce to you North. Talboys, are you asleep-or are Three-don't mention it—that I have made you at Chess with your eyes shut ? discoveries here that will astound the whole Talboys. At Chess with my eyes shut. world, and demand a New Criticism of the I shall send off my move to my friend Stirentire Shakspearean Drama.
ling by first post. But my ears were open