Or where, mid "lonely heights and hows," While reapers strove, or busy ploughs His judgment with benignant ray Nor deem that "light which leads astray, Let no mean hope your souls enslave; But be admonish'd by his grave, WE ARE SEVEN. A simple child, dear brother Jim, I met a little cottage girl; She was eight years old, she said; Her eyes were fair, and very fair- "Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, "And where are they? I pray you tell." "Two of us in the churchyard lie, Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell, Then did the little maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie, "Their graves are green, they may be seen," "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, "My stockings there I often knit, Till God released her of her pain, "So in the churchyard she was laid; "And when the ground was white with snow, "How many are you then," said I, "If they two are in heaven?" The little maiden did reply, "O master! we are seven." "But they are dead; those two are dead! THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US. The world is too much with us; late and soon, We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The winds that will be howling at all hours, A pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, SCORN NOT THE SONNET. Scorn not the Sonnet: Critic, you have frown'd, To struggle through dark ways; and, when a damp The thing became a trumpet, whence he blew MILTON. Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour; Of stagnant waters; altar, sword, and pen, Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart TO THOMAS CLARKSON, ON THE FINAL PASSING OF THE BILL FOR THE ABOLITION OF TILE SLAVE TRADE, MARCH, 1807. Clarkson! it was an obstinate hill to climb: How toilsome-nay, how dire it was, by thee Composed in London in 1802. First roused thee. O true yoke-fellow of time, Is won, and by all nations shall be worn! And thou henceforth shalt have a good man's calm, JOANNA BAILLIE, 1762-1851. THIS distinguished female poet, whose literary life stretches back into the last century, and whose early recollections were of the days of Burke, Johnson, Goldsmith, and Reynolds, was the daughter of a Scottish clergyman, and was born at Bothwell, on the banks of the Clyde, in the year 1762. She always lived in retirement, and latterly in strict seclusion, in her retreat at Hampstead. The literary fame which she had acquired by her own works, aided in no small degree by the long and loudly expressed admiration of Sir Walter Scott, who always visited her when in London, never succeeded in drawing her into general society.1 During the greater part of her life, she lived with a maiden sister, Agnes-also a poetess-to whom she addressed her beautiful "Birthday" poem. She early removed with her sister to London, where their brother, the late Sir Matthew Baillie, was settled as a physician, and there her earliest poetical works appeared anonymously. Her first dramatic efforts were published in 1798, under the title of "A Series of Plays: in which it is attempted to Delineate the Stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion being the subject of a Tragedy and a Comedy." To the volume was prefixed a long and interesting "Introductory Discourse," in which the authoress discusses the subject of the drama in all its bearings, and asserts the supremacy of simple nature over all decoration and refinement. "Let one simple trait of the human heart," says she," one expression of passion, genuine and true to nature, be introduced, and it will stand forth alone in the boldness of reality, whilst the false and unnatural around it fades away upon every side, like the rising exhalations of the morning." This theory the accomplished dramatist illustrated in her plays, the merits of which were so quickly recognized that a second edition was called for in a few months. Miss Baillie was then in her thirty-fourth year. A second volume was published in 1802, and a third in 1812. During the interval, she gave the world a volume of miscellaneous dramas in 1804, and the "Family Legend" in 1810, a tragedy founded on Highland tradition, and which, principally through the efforts of Sir Walter Scott, was brought out at the Edinburgh Theatre. The only "Play of the Passions" ever represented on the stage was "De Montfort," which was brought out by the celebrated actor John Kemble, and played for eleven nights. In fact, like all the dramatic efforts of our authoress, it was a poem-a poem full of genius and the true spirit of poetry-but not a play. Though the best of her dramatic productions, it is deficient in those lifelike, stirring scenes, and in that variety and fulness of passion, the "form and pressure" of everyday life, which are so essential to success on the stage. 99 66 In 1823, our authoress published a long-promised collection of "Poetic Miscellanies," and in 1836 three more volumes of plays. Besides these poetic productions, she is the author of "A View of the General Tenor of the New Testament regarding the Nature and Dignity of Jesus Christ." She also published "Metrical Legends of Eminent Characters," Fugitive Verses," and some less important publications. She died on the 22d of February, 1851, retaining her faculties till the last. Gentle and unassuming to all, with an unchangeable simplicity of manner and character, she counted among her friends many of the most celebrated for talent and genius; nor were those who resorted to her modest home confined to the natives of her own country, but many from various parts of Europe, and especially from our own land, sought introduction to one whose fame is commensurate with the knowledge of English Literature.2 But a short time before her death, Miss Baillie completed an entire edition of her dramatic works. Upon these she laid out her chief strength. In their general character, they are marked by great originality and invention. Her knowledge of the human heart, of its wide range for good or evil, of its multifarious, changeful, and wayward nature, was great, and her power of portraying character has rarely been excelled. Her female portraits are especially beautiful, and possess an unusual degree of elevation and purity. But though distinguished chiefly for her dramatic writings, her lyric and miscellaneous poetry takes a very high rank The following is a portion of the account, in "Chambers' Journal," of her interview with Lord Jeffrey, of the "Edinburgh Review." "It was in the autumn of 1820 that Miss Baillie paid her last visit to Scotland, and passed those delightful days with Sir Walter Scott, at Abbotsford, the second of which is so pleasantly given in Mr. Lockhart's life of the bard. Her friends again perceived a change in her manners. They had become blander and much more cordial. She had probably been now too long admired and reverently looked up to, not to understand her own position, and the encouragement which, essentially unassuming as she was, would be necessary from her to reassure the timid and satisfy the proud. She had magnanimously forgiven and lived down the unjust severity of her Edinburgh critic, and now no longer refused to be made personally known to him. He was presented to her by their mutual friend, the amiable Dr. Moorehead. They had much earnest and interesting talk toge ther, and from that hour to the end of their lives entertained for each other a mutual and cordial esteem. After this, Jeffrey seldom visited London without indulging himself in a friendly pilgrimage to the shrine of the secluded poetess: and it is pleasing to find him writ ing of her in the following cordial way in later years: London, April 28, 1840.-I forgot to tell you that we have been twice out to Hampstead, to hunt out Joanna Baillie, and found her the other day as fresh, natural, and amiable as ever-and as little like a Tragic Muse. Since old Mrs. Brougham's death, I do not know so nice an old woman.' And again, in January 7, 1842: We went to Hampstead, and paid a very pleasant visit to Joanna Baillie, who is marvellous in health and spirits, and youthful freshness and simplicity of feeling, and not a bit deaf, blind, or torpid." Read articles on Miss Raillie's Plays, in the 24 and 67th volumes of "Edinburgh Re view." |