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His father-in-law, Dr Martin of his undertaking. Well,' said he, the Kirkcaldy, thus describes the ending sum of the matter is—if I live, I live of all :
unto the Lord; and if I die, I die unto
the Lord : living or dying, I am the “Of his implicit obedience to what he
Lord's;'-a conclusion which seemed to believed to be the voice of Jehovah, one
set at rest all his difficulties on the subof the most striking instances was that ject of his duty. So strongly had his which led to his dying in Glasgow. His
confidence of restoration communicated medical advisers had recommended him itself to Mrs Irving, that it was not to proceed, before the end of autumn, to
till within an hour or so of his death Madeira, or some other spot where he
that she entertained any idea of the might shun the vicissitudes of a Brit: approaching event. ish winter. But some of the oracular voices which found utterance in his So he died; and, young as he still church had proclaimed it to be the will was, it is impossible to grudge him of God that he should go to Scotland, such a death. He died deluded, but and do a great work there. Accordingļy, unstained — by an unexampled forafter an equestrian tour in Wales, by tune gone astray, yet unimpeachwhich his health appeared at first to be able - a pure, religious, holy soul, improved, but the benefit of which he without a speck upon the truth lost through exposure to the weather and the devotion of his own naand occasional preaching contrary to the injunction of his physician, he ar
ture, and more than making up his rived at Liverpool on his way to the
errors by the spectacle, never surnorth. In that town he was taken passed, and to which we know alarmingly ill, and was unable for seve- scarcely a parallel, of these last forral days to quit his bed ; but no sooner
saken and unapplauded years of bis could he rise and walk through the martyrdom. Certainly this was truth room, than he went, in defiance of the alone, and yearning for the will of prohibition of his medical attendant, on God, that persuaded such a man to board a steamboat for Greenock. From undergo such a discipline. In the Greenock he proceeded to Glasgow, de- very depth of his error he vindicates lighted at having reached the first des- himself. And so he died ; and they tination which had been indicated to him. From Glasgow it was bis purpose to pro
buried him in the crypt of Glasceed to Edinburgh ; but this, I need not gow Cathedral, in the deep religious say, he never accomplished.' So much, gloom of that noblest of subterranean however, was his mind impressed with chapels. And long ere this last act its being his duty to go there, that even was accomplished, he had gotten that after he was unable to rise from his bed key of all mysteries which never is without assistance, he proposed that he let down into the world, and begun should be carried thither in a litter, if the real life which errs and stumbles the journey could not be accomplished never more. in any other way; and it was only be- It matters little to its hero that so cause his friends about him refused to few are aware of this strange and comply with his urgent request, that the noble epic of modern life ; but it thing was not done. Could he have commanded the means himself, the at
matters much to the world, which tempt at least would have been made. has not yet learned to know what a Nor, though his frame of mind was that great story that is which it passes by of almost continual converse with God, and wots not of. Such elements of do I think that he ever lost the confi- pity and of terror, the ancient tragic dence that, after being brought to the rule, are in no other tale of recent very brink of the grave, he was still to times with which we are acquainted; mark the finger of God by receiving and few are the records of any time strength for his Scottish mission, till which display, in all his glorious the last day of his life was far advanced, strength and weakness, his wonderwhen one of the most remarkable and ful humanness and personality, so comforting expressions he uttered seemed to intimate that he had been debat complete a man. ing the point with himself whether he
For it is not to Irving's genius should yield to the monitions which in- alone that so singular an interest becreasing weakness gave him of approach. longs : it is not even his genius prining dissolution, or retain his assurance cipally which one thinks of in his that he should yet be reinvigorated for works; and if any one of our readers suppose—as many may—that our ration—those most certain to bring testimony is partial or exaggerated, together, for example, the dazzling we can but refer them to those works crowds of this metropolis - have of Irving which the fame of Irving- been and are the issue of the sedatism has covered up and buried from est nation and least imaginative daylight and the world, where they Church in existence, - Scottish will find ample excuse for all that preachers, of a fervid and exumay seem extravagant in our admi- berant eloquence peculiar to the ration; and when, in his appeals— North. So universal is this paradox, in his denunciations--for which last that it is with surprise, as well as we claim no praise of toleration or admiration, that we see the new decharitable judgment—they are fiery, velopment of Scottish preaching, sweeping, and absolute, as the mind which has recently lifted up a which uttered them-in every de- calmer, softer, and more equable velopment and digression of his ora- voice in the country of Chalmers tory—they will see, not an intellect, and Irving: Mr Caird vindicates but a man. It is this characteristic Scottish pulpit eloquence from onewhich conveys to the whole that sidedness, and demonstrates that the singular elevation and subliming lofty quiet of authoritative oratory force of which it is hard to resist the does not belong alone to the golden influence. It is not the mind that mouth of the old Episcopate, or the speaks, but the heart, the affections, stately English of those great preachalmost-if that is possible-the very ers whose calmer renown belongs to person--the whole complete being this side of the Tweed. Yet the a power which baffles criticism, and common affirmation, which says of defies logic, and takes triumphant the author of Religion in Common possession of the imagination and Life that he preaches like a bishop, sympathies — the other hearts to is not without its truth and insight which this heart makes its vehement Where imagination is permitted, it is appeal and address.
less violent and dominant; and we And perhaps Edward Irving is as shall still find the calmer voice rare entirely a national hero as Wallace and single, and the vehement voice wight. His whole soul and eloquence the more usual expression, whether breathe of his country-a heroic sub- we take the present generation of limation of the lyrical and choral the reticent and abstract Church of genius of his native soil. And it is Scotland as our rule of Scottish remarkable that the greatest preach- preaching, or any former generation ers of the last and the present gene- of the past.
THE LIGHT ON THE HEARTH.-PART III.
“ Like the swell of some sweet tune,
Morning rises into noon,
“LIKE the swell of some sweet fopperies which hang often on the tune,” like the rising of rich melody, best natures, as wisps of hay or straw is the progress of young life, now caught from passing waggons dangle bursting into full chorus, now sink- from the boughs of a tree, incongruing into low soft cadences, now run- ous and odd. The impulse of young ning into gushing thrills ; sometimes life catches and carries on stray eccenthrowing out a discordant note or a tricities with it, as a stream bears mournful one, and then rushing again patches of mould or turf, which whirl into mellow flows of music.
on for a while in little eddies and As the score of some sweet loved little muddy circles, and then sink or harmony, the tune of young life- disappear altogether. young life ripening into manhood, Any trick, or mode, or affectation swelling into feeling and passion, of this sort, exasperated and irritated rising into hope, aspiration, ambi- the Squire, and produced little effertion, softening into love-sounding, vescences, which in my Uncle Toby's flowing onwards, ever onwards, falls time were commoner with gentlemen again on my ear.
of the army than their prayers, and It was the transition-time of life- even now, in these days of morality the passing stage from boyhood, girl- and decorum, escape from profane hood, onwards to men and women- natures. But ever and anon, some the intermediate period, so graceful, frank hearty speech, or generous so beautiful in the girl-woman, so thought—some bold feat or manly full of opening beauty, of nascent impulse, would clear away the poesy, of new thought and new vision, clouds. To see him put his horse of timid, besitating sensitiveness, well and boldly at a fence—to see which makes the young form, thé him give old Jim at the farm a turn young mind, quiver as an aspen, or of the shoulders and a tip of the toe bend as a willow in the breeze, so which sent him on the broad of his ripening, so pleasant, and yet so per- back-to hear him dash out some plexing to the boy-man; so set with earnest, heartful denunciation of hope, so cast with
purpose ; so earnest, baseness or poltroonery—to see the yet so fitful in resolve ; so confident in impetuous spirit with which he inward thought and will; so abashed would take up some wrong, or rein speech or action; so buoyant, lieve some distress — would redeem yet so gauche—when all that is said the puppyism. “Ay, ay,” he would is such half-utterance of what is say to himself
, “there is the making thought ; all that is done such feeble of a man in him, after all. 'Twill be expression of what is felt. It was all right; this nonsense will wear such transition-time when we were off. 'Tis always the way with true all meeting together again at Pen- blood. I remember that old Royal haddoc, after a year or two had even, when he was a pup, would yelp passed away—a year or two broken and pretend to skirt, until his true into absences, into experiences of nature began to tell, and now he is school and college life. Gerald and the best and steadiest dog in the myself were on the debatable ground, pack.” Taking this comfort and this men in dress and manner, youths experience to his heart, the Squire in sympathies and feeling. Gerald threw himself heartily on the commore than myself had adopted and panionship of his first born. brought away with him the Oxonian We were sitting in the old diningmannerism, the little trickeries and room-the old room, with its wainscot panels, hung with the old por- and left this as a memorial of his traits, which were a corollary on the taste and travel. The Squire, though Grenfell pedigree-a hieroglyphic il- yielding to an admiration of its lustration of the Grenfell character beauty, hardly looked upon as a and history. The same face, the legitimate ornament, and regarded it same features, with here and there very much as he would have the insome strange exception, such as every troduction of foreign blood into his race shows, shaded and varied by the stable or kennel. The wine was on temper of generations and the cos- the table, and dishes of fruit, intertume of ages, photographed a lineage spersed with vases of flowers, suited of stalwart, manly, honest men, from well with the summer time and the the Crusader, stiff, grim, and reli- summer light and the summer air gious as pre-Raphaelite art could de- which was passing in through the sire, down through the stages of the open windows. The Squire sat in a warriors of the Roses, the Cavaliers, large oak chair, and considered that bearded and Vandyked, the men of he thereby avoided the effeminacy of the Georges, smug, smooth-shaven, ease, and the undignified posture enand voluptuous (and this, perhaps, tailed by the small, straight-backed was the worse phase of the family enormities in which our ancestors physiognomy), down to the fox-hunt- and ancestresses loved to mould their ing father. There was one portrait attitudes. He was quaffing port, - that of an ancestor who had upholding it as the manly drinkfought with the Parliament in the jeering at Gerald, who affected to civil wars—which the Squire would prefer claret. Port was then as orhave fain_turned to the wall, and thodox as Church and State, and made a Faliero among Grenfells, sherry or light wines looked upon save that a sort of race-reverence with pretty much the same feeling awed him from passing a doom on
as Radicalism or Dissent. In fact, the the men of the past. Gerald, in wil- age had then a port-wine flavour and fulness and sportfulness, would often tone--full, strong, and well-bodied, instance this as “the best-looking but rather heavy at seasons, perhaps, and most like a man of the lot," and apt to get very crusted, beesand would tempt Rose to say the wingy, and tawny with age. The same; but the girl's eye would not windows looked out on the lawn, recognise beauty in the Puritan's nearly opposite the oak. There, on look or garb. Here and there a fa- garden-chairs, or on a pile of cushions, vourite hunter or dog, or a group of sat the matrons. At their feet lay dead game or fruit, intermitted the Rose, half-sitting, half-reclining-the ancestral row; but the prettiest and soft face now shown in delicate prosoftest relief to the armour and the file, now turned in fuller contour, with wigs and the strong visages, was the the sunny ringlets, golden as ever, picture which stood over the chim- dancing and falling in rich shades ney-piece, of two young girls, sisters, over cheek and shoulders; the figure whose bloom, beauty, and youth, in all its movements, all its poses, shone out amid the manly character- graceful, and true to the curves and istics like gleams in a dark sky, or lines of beauty. She had not changed little oases in rugged scenery, shed- --not changed from childhood on to ding the charm of feminine grace womanhood, but unfolded gently, over the family lineaments.
opening from one stage into the A contrast, too, to the dark oak other, ever with the same loveliness panelling was the chimney-piece of -not brilliant, not dazzling, not Carrara marble, sculptured with coldly classical, but the soft, bright, bunches of grapes and vine-leaves beaming loveliness which lights on and Bacchante groups, all touched the soul with the warmth of a sunwith the skilful hand and the sunny beam and the breath of a zephyr. thought of southern clime. This had The eye had deepened its blue, and been imported by a virtuoso of the the long fringes of the lashes were race-a Grenfell who had gone so darker and richer; the forehead had much out of the track as to be a tra- kept its fair roundness, and the same veller and the member of an embassy, dimples played around the mouth
and chin; the lips were ripe and padded coat, and tight pantaloons, I dewy as ever. The face was all ex- could have cuffed him with all my pression, ever lighting with passing heart, till I heard that he was the thought and feeling; and the best oar of his college, and saw him thoughts and feelings must have stand so well up to old Tom to-day been bright and gladsome, for such with the gloves. By the by, Gerald, were the smiles and glances which that touch of the left hand was somegleamed from eye and lip, and dim- thing new. Well, well, as long as pled in every feature. It could not they cram learning into the brain grow fairer, but had still the fresh without driving manliness out of the soft touch and bloom of blossom-the heart, I shan't quarrel with those floating downy fairness which is to universities. I can even pardon the the marble and enamel whiteness of dandyism of cravats, pomatum, and skin as the colours of nature are to gewgaws, though I would rather not those of art.
see a son of mine dressed like one of “When her life was yet in bud,
the chaps in the play-booth, or a It but foretold the perfect rose."
monkey dancing before an organ."
Gerald siniled provokingly at this Her figure had grown to my ideal. attack, and with an air of affectation Springing up to a fair height—the gave a twist to his hair, touched up height of grace and symmetry--and his cravat and frill, and patted a sweeping softly in its outline, never small snuff-box, carried for fashion bursting into fulness, or sinking into only, and then laughed outright, as sudden falls, it had more the elegance he looked down on his strong muscuof the Greek type than is often asso- lar limbs, which even his artificial ciated with Saxon beauty; and when dress could not disguise. it moved, or bended, or bounded, “You ought, John," answered Trethen there I saw and felt what is the venna, “to have lived in the old poetry of motion. The voice, the primitive days, among the strong laugh-they were to be felt as well men-Paladins, Berserkers, and Vias heard.
kings—with whom the manliness Rose, Rose ! how the dull pulse you admire so much was the prime and the world-worn heart beat and virtue.” throb even now, as thy picture rises “Well, Roger, they were not so far before me !
out. To be a man, seems to me a All eyes were turned towards her step towards being a gentleman or at every pause, and at every sound, nobleman. The best gentlemen-races laugh, or word, or song, which came —the Greeks, the Arabs, the Norfrom without, -Gerald's with the mans—were all manly. I am not fervent gaze of early love and wor- much of a philosopher or political ship--mine with the deep abiding economist, but I should begin to have devotion which silent unspoken my fears for an age or family when hearts ofttimes bestow-the Squire's gentlehood became too fast and too with the hearty, smiling, pleasant fine for manhood. They must go tolook of fondness and admiration- gether to make a pace that will last.” Trevenna’s with the rapt, still, full- The Squire was on his hobby now, joyed gaze which recognises the bless- so we slipped quietly away through ing-the all-pervading, all-satisfying the window, to join the group underblessing-of a life. Thus the wine neath the tree. was passed, and the evening light “ The young ones are off, Roger. shone, and the gladness of happy Youth to youth ; young nature to thoughts waved on from heart to young nature. 'Tis the law of the heart. “These young fellows, Roger," world. See how that puppy is paradsaid the Squire (for confidence and ing and grimacing before Rose. By fellowship had now begotten familia- Jove ! she is laughing at him. She rity), “ are so learned and so conceit- will soon take the nonsense out of ed, that 'tis hard to stand up against him. Nothing like a pure, pretty, their scholarship and their puppy- gentle-nurtured girl, for making a ism. As for that fellow," pointing to fellow show out in his true colours
. Gerald," with his frizzed head, his He will be his own man again before