591 .... Observations on the Study of History. 592 Lizard Satyrion, Satyrium hircinum; Creeping Satyrion, S. repens; Least Twayblade, Ophrys cordata; Dwarf Ophrys, O. loeselii; Bee Ophrys, O. apifera; Marsh Tender Twayblade, Malaxis paludosa; Broad-leaved Helleborine, Serapias latifolia; Marsh Helleborine, S. palustris; Birthwort, Aristolochia clematitis; Horned Pondweed, Zannichellia palustris; Greater Duckweed, Lemna polyrrhiza; Great and Dwarf Cat's Tail, Typha latifolia & minor; Branched Burreed, Sparganium ramosum; Simple Burreed, S. simplex; Curved Carex, C. incurva; Capillary Carex, C. capillaris ; Russet Carex, C. pulla; Spiked Water Milfoil, Myriophyllum spicatum; Verticillate Water Milfoil, M. verticillatum; Arrowhead, Sagittaria sagittifolia; Burnet, Poterium sanguisorba; Hop, Humulus lupulus; Annual Mercury, Mercurialis annua; Frogbit, Hydrocharis morsus ranæ; Juniper,Juniperus communis; Shrubby and Frosted Sea Orache, Atriplex portulacoides & laciniata. OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF rape, Orobanche elatior, minor, & cœrulea; Awlwort, Subularia aquatica; Broad-leaved Pepperwort, Lepidium latifolium; Bitter Candytuft, Iberis amara; Woad, Isatis tinctoria; Wall Rocket, Sisymbrium tenuifolium; | Flixweed, S. sophia; London Rocket, R. iris; Treacle Hedge Mustard, Erysimum cheiranthoides; Mountain Ge- | ranium, G. pyrenaicum; Bloody Geranium, G. sanguineum; Marsh Mallow, Althea officinalis; Musk Mallow, Malva moschata; Sea Tree Mallow, Lavatera arborea; Dyer's Genista, G. tinctoria; Ten species of Pea and Vetch, Pisum lathyrus & Vicia genera; Hairy Mountain Milk Vetch, | Astragalus uralensis; Six species of Trefoil, Trifolium; Tutsan, Hypericum, Androsæmum, and some other species of St. John's Wort; Hawkweed Oxtongue, Picris hieracioides; Blue Sow Thistle, Sonchus coeruleus; Tall Marsh Sow Thistle, S. palustris; Common Sow Thistle, S. oleraceus; Ivy-leaved Lettuce, Prenanthes muralis; Rough Hedypnois, H. hispida; Deficient Hedypnois, H. hirta; Alpine single-flowered Hawkweed, Hieracium alpinum; Branching Mouseear Hawkweed, H. dubium; Umbelled Mouse-ear Hawkweed, auricula; Wall Hawkweed, H. murorum; Succoryleaved Mountain Hawkweed, H. palu-efficient than History. The most imdosum; Soft-leaved Hawkweed, H. molle; Spotted Cat's-Ear, Hypocharis maculata; Wild Succory, Cichorium intybus; Burdock, Aretium lappa; Common Sawwort, Serratula tinctoria; Alpine Sawwort, S. alpina; Four species of Thistle, Carduus; Hempagrimony, Eupatorium cannabinum; Tansy, Tanacetum vulgare; Dwarf Effects are produced from occurCudweed, Gnaphalium supinum; and rences which are indistinctly delithree other species; Plowman's Spike-neated. On the other hand, causes nard, Conyza squarrosa; Alpine Fleabane, Erigeron alpinum; Stinking Grounsel, Senecio viscosus; Mountain Grounsel, S. sylvaticus; Hoary Ragwort, S. tenuifolius; and three more species of Grounsel; Golden Rod, Solidago virgaurea; Elecampane, Inula helenium; Sea Feverfew, Pyrethrum maritimum; Sea Chamomile, Anthemis maritima; Oxeye Chamomile, A. tinctoria; Goosetongue, Achillea ptarmica; Corn Blue Bottle, Centaurea cyanus; Greater Knapweed, C. scabiosa; Common Star Thistle, C. caleitrapa; St. Barnaby's Star Thistle, C. solstitialis ; Pyramidal Orchis, O. pyramidalis; Of all the subjects which tend to amuse and yield improvement, none is more portant reflections may be drawn from facts that have affected great portions of mankind. They incline us to admire the designs and providence of the Deity, furnishing lessons of instruction to all, and especially to those who are at the head of government. appear, which, though they seem not to be of much consequence, produce important effects. The studions reader will discover these things. And, although the superficial will not consider them so philosophically, they will be engaged by the relation of circumstances which are extraordinary, and interested in knowing their event. The experience of others in that which is evil, and that which is good and beneficial, is, or ought to be, a warning to those who succeed them. He who attends to this warning, will take the safe path; it will serve him as a rule by which to proceed in that particular whereof it treats. Individuals, 593 Providence and Grace. therefore, who have relation to go- I must remark, that to those individuals of whom I have been speaking, a knowledge of the former circumstances, and situations of their own country, is most necessary. They then see what may happen under their own particular government. They perhaps may discover an instrument in it by which to benefit society; or, perhaps, be able to view its defects, and endeavour to reform them. 594 accounts of ancient Rome, and read her poets and historians, delight to tread the "classic ground." Where History is obscure, there has arisen political controversy. Many things are concealed from our knowledge, as to any certainty, and in a great measure lost. Concerning them, History has given but imperfect hints; hence endless contention: some declare the existence of certain facts, and others deny it. I refer now to that disputed question, viz. whether there was any house of commons in the Saxon government, in England? Such questions as these are not of great importance now. I can only say, that if men were unbiassed by party feeling, and came unprejudiced to the question, when there is any light thrown upon it, it would be more justly determined. PROVIDENCE AND GRACE, AS EXEM-, (Concluded from col. 571.) "We went on about two or three miles far ther, when the old woman said, as I must be hungry and tired, she would take me a little out of the road to some friends of hers, where we could get some refreshment and stay all night if we chose. With this we turned out of the highway, and crossing several by-lanes came at last to an open green spot by the side of a shady copse, where several gipsy tents were erected. an abstruse To all "gentlemen of the long robe," History is certainly requisite. "No man can be acquainted rightly with his country's laws, without a knowledge of its History." To persons of every profession and condition, History is very useful. The variety of its objects may afford an amusing discourse, and assist conversation. It is not study; but it is accounted a pleasing one, to refresh the mind after more difficult subjects. As I had always been greatly afraid of gipsies, I felt an indescribable horror when I found the inhabitants of these tented dwellings salute my companion as an old friend and acquaintance. I thought now my ruin was To those who are, or intend to be, inevitable. I burst into a flood of tears, and writers in any way, this study affords cried aloud, telling the old woman, in sobs and help. It offers us those things which sighs, I did not think she would have brought me to such a place as that. O how did I wish serve as an illustration of our subjects, myself back again at ; but I knew the and it gives us the opportunity of wish was in vain, and this made my sorrow the drawing new ideas. In reading, like-more pungent. The old woman, joined by her wise, we meet with sentiments and reflections, which nothing but an acquaintance with historical facts will enable us to elucidate. How pleasing is it to the individual versed in this study, to compare the times in which he lives, with those that have passed! He rejoices at the improvements of the age, but laments its degeneracy. Still more pleasing must it be, for such an one to traverse the regions, to which History assigns the perfection of science, and the brightness of learning. How would the individual who had studied the gipsy friends, used every method to pacify me. Some bread and butter was given me in the kindest manner, with promises of any thing I wanted, and assurances of safety; and it is but justice to say, that these promises were faithfully observed; and, during the time I was with them, every method was used to please and gratify me. "The place where these tents were set, was remarkably pleasant. A small wood was behind, bounded by a thick hawthorn hedge, under the shade of which they were placed. There was a little declivity in front. At the bottom a rippling stream murmured along, while upon its banks grass and flowers formed a lovely carpet. Several village spires were seen round about. After we had refreshed ourselves, I was persuaded to go and gather 595 Providence and Grace. some flowers with a girl of the company, with whom, however, I felt no inclination to make free. In the course of the evening several more men and women joined the party, so that at last there were fifteen or twenty. At supper they feasted upon the produce of the day. Various broken meats were handed from their wallets, and the meal was finished with a bottle of gin, which, with a recital of their adventures, closed the business of the day. I was excessively shocked at their coarse vulgarity; oaths and curses composed a great part of their discourse. In the workhouse nothing of this kind was suffered, and my misery in being ex.. posed to it was very great. The old woman, a girl, and I, were appointed to sleep together in one tent. But of sleep, I had but little. I thought of Mr. and Mrs. Conway; then of my present state-among gipsies entire strangers without a friend or protector; then I thought of my mother. My disobedience in leaving without permission, made me very miserable. The distress it would occasion came fresh into my mind, and my uneasiness was increased by contrasting the comfortable bed I had at the workhouse with the crowded and hard pallet I then lay upon. A just punishment, I thought, had befallen me. ་ 596 considerable distance from the place at which I got into his chaise. He now endeavoured to allay my fears, by informing me that I was quite safe, and that what he had done was for my good. Did'nt you meet,' said he, a gentleman upon a grey horse?' I told him we did, and I thought he noticed us particularly. Well,' be continued, that gentleman stopped me, and said I should overtake an old woman and a girl that he suspected she had enticed away and intended to ruin. He said he would give me half-a-crown if I would take you away from the old gipsy; which I promised to do, and I believe it's a good thing that I have, for depend upon it she had no good in her head.' The driver, as we went along, asked me a variety of questions, as to where I was going, whence I came, and how I got into company with the gipsy. To all these inquiries Î replied by stating the simple truth. The next thing that entered into the post-boy's mind was, how to dispose of me. To set me down in the road by myself he thought would be cruel, and where to take me to, he did not know. At length he resolved to take me to his inn, at and tell his mistress the whole story, and hear what she would say. We, therefore, went on till we came to the Star, at "We drove into the yard by a back gate, and I alighted and stood in the yard till the horses were taken out and put into the stable. The driver then took me into the house to state my case to the landlady. The inn was one of the first respectability, and the mistress was busily employed in the bar. As soon as I perceived a glance from her eye light on me, I dropped a low courtesy, which she was pleased to answer by a slight inclination of her head. "In the morning, before we rose, I opened my distress to the old woman. She endeavoured to soothe me, by kind promises of taking me to London to see my mother. She said I should go a part of the way that day; but as she must make calls on the way, I must not be surprised if it took some time to reach the journey's end. 'Besides,' said she, I have very little money, and we must sometimes go a little out of our way to beg a trifle.' Though the thought of begging, was to me by no means pleasant, I was so far influenced by her promises, and the hope of reaching London, that my wishes to return to began to sub"The cook, reasonably supposing me to be side, and I resolved to persevere in the jour-hungry after my journey, set before me a piece ney. The whole company collected round us, when one of them, seeing me destitute of a bonnet, gave me an old one she happened to have; then, sending their remembrances to friends we were expected to see on the road, they shook us by the hand and bade us farewell. "We travelled on together a few miles, when we were overtaken by a return chaise on its way toWhen it came up to us, the driver stopped his horses, and asked us if we would ride a mile or two? telling us, that, as the chaise was empty, he could give us a lift. To this we agreed, and he opening the door, I stepped in. The old woman was about to follow me, when the post-boy said to her, Stop, you'd better get in on the other side;' and immediately put up the steps and shut the door. The old woman went round to the other side, but in the mean time, the driver stepped into his place, and, whipping his horses, drove off at full speed. The old woman immediately called out to him to stop, and continued to do so as long as she could be heard. I too was dreadfully alarmed, and began to cry vehemently; but the driver was unmindful of us both, and continued at the same rapid pace till we were fairly beyond the reach of the old woman; for, though several persons upon the road who heard my cries had called out to him to stop, he absolutely refused till we were a "I was conducted into the kitchen, where the maids were busily employed in cooking for the various visitors of the house. of cold pie, which I ate with considerable re- 597 On the Genius and Writings of Wordsworth. were uttered with so much severity, accompanied with such a sternness of countenance, as forbid any reply but tears. I was strongly agitated, and sobbed aloud. The post-boy looked at me affectionately, and said to his mistress, I'am sure, ma'am, nobody could have refused to do as I did.' Well, well, said she, in a softer tone, I say you've got yourself into a pack of trouble: the girl might, to be sure, have been stolen, but what is that to us!' Her tears soon told her these last words would not bear criticizing, and she immediately added, Yet one would not like a poor thing to be lost. She then spoke to me and said, Come, child, don't cry, but tell me where you came from?' In broken accents, I said,From .And where was you going? To London, to find my mother.' And how came you with the old gipsy?' In answer to this question I related all the circumstances of the case, giving a particular and artless account of all my adventures with the old woman, from the time we met, to our separation. The feelings of the landlady were evidently changed by my simple tale, and the change was apparent on the countenance of the post-boy, who anxiously traced the mind of his mistress upon the features of her face. Poor thing,' said he,' I would not have left her with that creature on any account: I would not trust that dog with her;' pointing to a spaniel that lay on the hearth. The landlady looked at me, then at the dog, then at the driver; Well, what's to be done?' said she. I don't see what we can do, only send her back by the waggon to La! ma'am,' said the bar-maid, who had listened to all that had passed, I'd never send the poor thing back to the workhouse. Why there's Madam Wallis, where our Jane went to live, she's a kind soul, and I dare say would take the poor creature till something could be done for her.' Do you think so, Charlotte?' ⚫ I have no doubt of it, for you know how good she is to the poor? We can but try, said the landlady; so,' addressing herself to me, go into the kitchen and stay with the maids, and to-morrow we'll let Madam Wallis know about it.' "In the morning my landlady took me with her, and waited on Madam Wallis. She was an aged widow, who employed a considerable income in acts of benevolence and piety. The landlady was admitted, and, after some time, I was sent for into her parlour. The same questions were again proposed, as at the inn, and I gave similar answers. The old lady reprimanded me, but in a tone of kindness, for leaving and made some just remarks on the dangers to which I had thoughtlessly exposed myself. The conclusion of the matter however was, that she would take me into her house, and set me to work as well as I was able, till something better offered itself. Here then, for the present, I took up my abode. "Mrs. Wallis was remarkably kind. She bought me new clothes, and employed me in errands and little jobs in the house. As she found me tractable, and was likely to lose one of her servants, who was about to marry, she resolved on keeping me with her; at which I was not a little pleased, and, in fact, I continued with her till her death, which took place eight years after I entered her hospitable house.' 598 The subsequent branches of this interesting narrative go on to state, that after the death of Mrs. Wallis, she entered into the service of a Lady Johnson; that she was savingly converted to God; and was afterwards married to a fellow servant now her husband, who in a remarkable manner had also been brought to a knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. The whole is interspersed with important reflections, that are at once entertaining and highly instructive. We envy not that man his feelings, who can read this little book without being both interested and profited. THERE is not any living Poet upon whom so much has been said, to so little purpose, as upon Wordsworth. Innumerable essays and pamphlets have appeared, many of which were written from a party spirit, and others from a mistaken idea of his system of poetry. That system has been misrepresented with no common baseness, and those who have endeavoured to take up the subject the most impartially, have, in general, reasoned upon the theory, without once looking at the poetry; and thus have been fighting with shadows, and wrestling with sunbeams. As it regards that system, however, it is not our intention to make any observations; it has been long before the public, and whatever ridicule may have been thrown upon it, one thing is certain, that Mr. Wordsworth has been gradually rising into fame, and is now acknowledged by the master spirits of the age, as one of the divinest of intellects. We wish to shew our readers, that though some highly-gifted bards have pictured all the anomalies of our nature, and told of the turbulent spirits and sad diseases of the heart, yet there is one who has opened a fountain of pure water, and made its streams to flow in a thousand channels-who has caused flowers to spring up in our path, and cast a hue over human nature at once bright and enduring 599 On the Genius and Writings of Wordsworth. who has called forth the holiest of our sympathies, and told of the hopes of man and his immortal destiny-of one who has lived in this "bright and breathing world," and has not lived in vain. We wish them to look on those visions of glory and immortality, which this poet has prepared for them, and to follow us into those regions of love and of beauty, where we have "garnered up our hearts." In the poetry of Wordsworth, there is not any thing to which the mind does not at any time recur with pleasure. His chief subjects are Life, Death, Childhood, and Old Age; and over these he casts a naked majesty of feeling, which we cannot but revere and love. He calls forth no lurking disease of the heart, and pictures no vitiated hero-he brings before us no object but what is bright and pure, and tells us of no passions but those which are, and ever should be, a Poet's fairest creations. He binds man and the universe by that "natural piety" which awakes all our dearest sympathies, and conducts the current of our affections into those fairy channels where they can have their "pleasant excercise of hope and joy." To him, the "bare earth and mountains bare" are a delight. He looks upon Nature in all her changes, with a mind abstracted from every thing worldly, and to him the meanest flower that blows upon the desolate heath, can raise up thoughts which" do often lie too deep for tears." He has written nothing that we could wish to see cancelled-he has not given us any terrific or startling subjects-subjects, which however they may astonish, and however forcibly depicted, never find any true sympathy in the human heart-but he has passed over the beaten paths of our existence, and guided us to many a sweet spring of joy and consolation, which flows by the way-side of humanity. He looks upon this world as from a higher sphere, and "lives along" the tender ties of love and affection that bind the great family of man together. That first mild touch of sympathy and thought 600 We have said some little upon Mr. Wordsworth; let him now speak for himself. One or two extracts will suffice to shew that he may deservedly claim a very high station amongst the living poets. How intensely does he picture the feelings of one of Nature's lovers, in the following lines. Oh then what soul was his, when on the tops touched, Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth Nothing can be more artless and simple than the subjects which he chooses, yet nothing can be more noble and sublime than his manner of to look back upon the early days of depicting them. Every one delights his existence, and to reflect upon the careless sports of his infancy; but in what touching and beautiful strains does this poet speak of them!—he arrays them in all their "freshness and their glory," and pours a flood of the loveliest colouring over that happy time. The most trifling incident can bring to his recollection those scenes— the paths he once trod are reviewed with increased delight, and he listens to the 06 Cuckoo, till it begets again the following thought— I have seen Of inland ground, applying to his ear within Were heard, sonorous cadences! whereby, |