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whose bright face you may not read, “None liveth to himself.”
11. Speak now to that solitary star that hangs in the far verge of heaven, and ask the bright sparkler: “What are you doing there?”
12. Its voice comes down the path of light, and cries, “I am a mighty world. I was stationed here at creation, and had all my duties marked out. I was among the morning stars that sang together, and among the sons of God that shouted for joy at the creation of the earth.
13. "Aye, I was there · When the radiant morn of creation broke, And the world in the smile of God awoke, And the empty realms of darkness and death Were moved thro' their depths by His mighty breath, And orbs of beauty, and spheres of flame From the void abyss by myriads came; In the joy of youth, as they darted away, Through the widening waste of space to play Their silver voices in chorus rung,
And this was the song the bright ones sung: “Great and marvelous are Thy works, Lord God Almighty ;- just and true are all Thy ways.”'
14. “Here among the morning stars I hold my place, and help to keep other worlds balanced and in their places. I have oceans and mountains, and I support myriads of immortal beings on my bosom; and when I have done all this, I send my bright beams down to earth, and the sailor takes hold of the helm and fixes his eye on me, and finds his way across the great ocean. Of all the countless hosts of my sister stars who walk forth in the great space of creation, not one, not one lives or shines for herself."
15. And thus has God written upon the flower that
sweetens the air; upon the breeze that rocks that flower on its stem; upon the rain-drop that refreshes the smallest sprig of moss that lifts its head in the desert; upon the ocean that rocks every swimmer in its chambers; upon every penciled shell that sleeps in the caverns of the deep, no less than upon the mighty sun which warms and cheers millions of creatures that live in his light: upon all his works He has written, “None of us liveth to himself.”
16. And probably, were we wise enough to understand these works, we should find that there is nothing, from the cold stone in the earth, or the minutest being that breathes, which may not, in some way or other, minister to the happiness of some living creature.
LXXIX.—THE STRANGER ON THE SILL.
1. Between broad fields of wheat and corn,
Is the lowly home where I was born ;
2. There is the barn; and, as of yore,
I can smell the hay from the open door,
3. There is the orchard ; the very trees
Where my childhood knew long hours of ease,
And watched the shadowy inoments run
But the stranger's children are swinging there. 4. There bubbles the shady spring below,
With its bulrush brook where the hazels grow;
But the stranger's bucket is at the spring. 5. O! ye who daily cross the sill,
Step lightly, for I love it still ;
To gladden eyes that are no more. 6. Deal kindly with orchard trees:
And when your children crowd your knees,
THOMAS BUCHANAN READ.
LXXX.-THE SENSITIVE AUTHOR.
DANGLE, SNEER, SIR FRETFUL PLAGIARY. 1. Dangle. Ah, my dear friend! We were just speaking of your tragedy. Admirable, Sir Fretful, admirable !
2. Sneer. You never did any thing beyond it, Sir Fretful - never in
3. Sir F. Sincerely, then, you do like the piece ? 4. Sneer. Wonderfully!
5. Sir. F. But come now, there must be something that you think might be mended, hey? Mr. Dangle, has nothing struck you?
6. Dan. Why, faith, it is but an ungracious thing, for the most part, to
7. Sir F. With most authors it is just so, indeed ; they are in general strangely tenacious! But, for my part, I am never so well pleased as when a judicious critic points out any defect in me; for what is the
of showing a work to a friend, if you don't mean to profit by his opinion?
8. Sneer. Very true. Why, then, though I seriously admire the piece upon the whole, yet there is one small objection; which, if you'll give me leave, I'll mention.
9. Sir F. Sir, you can't oblige me more.
12. Sneer. Yes; I own I think the incidents are too few.
13. Sir F. Believe me, Mr. Sneer, there is no person for whose judgment I have a more implicit deference; but I protest to you, Mr. Sneer, I am only apprehensive that the incidents are too crowded. My dear Dangle, how does it strike you!
14. Dan. Really, I can't agree with my friend Sneer. I think the plot quite sufficient, and the first four acts by many degrees the best I ever read or saw in my life. If I might venture to suggest any thing, it is that the interest rather falls off in the fifth.
15. Sir F. Rises, I believe you mean, sir 16. Dan. No; I don't, upon my word.
17. Sir F. Yes, yes, you do, upon my word; it certainly don't fall off, I assure you. No, no, it don't fall off.
18. Dan. Well, Sir Fretful, I wish you may be able to get rid as easily of the newspaper criticisms as you do of ours.
19. Sir F. The newspapers! Sir, they are the most villainous - licentious - abominable - contemptible -
Not that I ever read them! No, I make it a rule never to look into a newspaper.
20. Dan. You are quite right; for it certainly must hurt an author of delicate feelings to see the liberties they take.
21. Sir F. No! quite the contrary; their abuse is, in fact, the best panegyric – I like it of all things. An author's reputation is only in danger from their support.
22. Sneer. Why that's true; and that attack now on you the other day
23. Sir F. What? where?
24. Dan. Aye, you mean in a paper of Thursday; it was completely ill-natured, to be sure.
25. Sir F. O, so much the better – Ha! ha! ha!-I wouldn't have it otherwise.
26. Dan. Certainly, it's only to be laughed at; for
27. Sir F. You don't happen to recollect what the fellow said, do you?
28. Sneer. Pray, Dangle — Sir Fretful seems a little anxious 29. Sir F. O no !- anxious - not I- not the least.
I— But one may as well hear, you know.
30. Dan. Sneer, do you recollect? [Aside to SNEER.] ] Make out something. 31. Sneer. [Aside to DANGLE] I will.
I will. [Aloud.] Yes, yes, I remember perfectly.
32. Sir F. Well, and pray now — not that it signifies what might the gentleman say?
33. Sneer. Why, he roundly asserts that you have not the slightest invention or original genius whatever;