The birds hymn forth a song of gratitude

To Him who shelter'd, when the storms were deep,
And fed them through the winter's cheerless gloom.
Beside the garden-path, the crocus blue
Puts forth its head to woo the genial breeze,
And finds the snow-drop, hardier visitant,
Already basking in the solar ray.

Upon the brook the water-crosses float
More greenly, and the bordering reeds exalt
Higher their speary summits. Joyously,
From stone to stone, the ouzel flits along,
Startling the linnet from the hawthorn bough;
While on the elm-tree, overshadowing deep
The low-roof'd cottage white, the black-bird sits,
Cheerily hymning the awaken'd year.

Turn to the ocean-how the scene is changed!
Behold the small waves melt upon the shore
With chasten'd murmur! Buoyantly on high
The sea-gulls ride, weaving a sportive dance,
And turning to the sun their snowy plumes.
With shrilly pipe, from headland or from cape,
Emerge the line of plovers, o'er the sands
Fast sweeping; while to inland marsh the hern,
With undulating wing scarce visible,
Far up the azure concave journeys on!
Upon the sapphire deep, its sails unfurl'd,
Tardily glides along the fisher's boat,

Its shadow moving o'er the moveless tide;
The bright wave flashes from the rower's oar,
Glittering in the sun, at measured intervals;
And, casually borne, the fisher's voice
Floats solemnly along the watery waste;
The shepherd boy, enveloped in his plaid,
On the green bank, with blooming furze o'ertopp'd,
Listens, and answers with responsive note.
Delightful Zephyr! as, with gentle force,
The fawning of thy light ambrosial wings
Kisses my brow; and, as the early flowers
Bend with thy dalliance, to the days of youth,
Unheedful of the yawning gulph, the gloom
Of many a mazy year that intervenes,
Far stretching, the impatient mind reverts;
And, in a moment, lo! the rainbow span
Of boyhood, and its vanish'd thoughts, arise
As bright as lightning from a tempest-cloud!

What marvel, when the world revives! when sweet

The flowers spring forth, and all the forests bud;
When warmer glory gilds the vault of day,
And genial sunshine to the play of health
Recalls the pulse of nature, to the years
Of innocence and beauty, that the heart
Fondly regretful turns, and lives in thought
The happy span of boyhood o'er again!
Beautiful!-beautiful the spring of life
Spread its blue skies, and open'd to the sun
Its tender buds and blossoms! To the ear
What now so full of music as the sound
Of its bright murmuring rivers! to the eye
What now so lovely as the greenery
Triumphant of its winter-scorning boughs!
Accordant to the bosom's stainless thoughts,
So glow'd the season then; aspiring hopes,

And visions of yet unimagined bliss
Awakening in the soul-too credulous!
Nor yet to life's most dull realities,
By dark-brow'd Disappointment overcome!
How, like a potent necromancer, Time
Touches us with his rod,-and withers us!-
For ever fled the glowing skies of youth!
For ever fled the bright romantic gleams

Of fairy thought, that charm'd the willing mind!—
How joyful throbb'd the bosom, when the snows,
Melting away, unveiled upon the mead

The early daisies; and the mountain stream,
High-swoln, rush'd brown, and roaring, to the sea!
When sooty rooks urged clamorously their flight
From the sprouting woods; and, with the setting sun,
Return'd to inland haunts from ocean's shore!-
But why with mournful, or unquiet thoughts,
Or, with low selfish griefs, disturb the scene,
Pregnant with beauty, and with placid hope?—
The joy that now should buoy the willing mind
Should be etherial, pure, and delicate;
Untainted with the grovelling stains of earth,
And tranquil as the lotus, whose white head
In meekness hangs 'mid the disturbing stream!
The thought that now should swell within the breast
Should be a dream of long-departed loves

And vanish'd friendships, soften'd down, and bathed
In shadowy tints, more exquisite than aught

That strikes the eye, amid the hues of joy.
And oh! when gazing on the holy scene
Of earth, in renovated beauty dress'd,

And bud and bloom, from out their wintry grave,
In glory bursting, let no sceptic doubts

Of man's eternal destiny disturb

The bosom's settled quiet, but meek faith
Look forward hopeful through eternity!

Although the rose of beauty to the cheek

No more returns; though sinewy strength forsakes
The limbs; and age, with vampire thirst, dries up
The warm and vigorous blood; though lying down,
No more to view the splendour of the sun,
Or the green fields, upon the bed of death;
Yet, let man droop not; higher hope is his
To baffle time, and overfly the bounds

Of his enchantment, than the mountain oak,
That firmly rooted on the stedfast soil,
Braves, through the lustra of a thousand years,
The desolating tempest !

When no more
In annual revolution smiles the spring,
Bidding, with genial breath, the world revive;
When on the coronal of night no more
The pleiades shine; and Hesper's dewy light
Is blotted out; when ocean's watchful tide,
Watchful in vain, waits stagnant for the moon;
Then, o'er the ruins of material things
Triumphant, to its fount the spirit ascends;
And, in the everlasting wells of Paradise,
Laving from every earth-caught taint its wing,
All undefiled unto the throne looks up,
And mingles with the choral seraphim!

A

MINNA TROIL-A BALLAD.

Two sisters bloom'd upon thy strand
In beauty, Northern Hialtland;
This like the violet, that the rose,
Which tow'ring high in its beauty glows.
Brenda was like the turtle dove,

With soul of softness, and heart of love;
Minna the eagle, whose stately form
Rises, 'mid tempest, from high Cairngorm.
Without a cloud to dim the sky,

Their days of youth pass'd brightly by;
And, like twin seraphs, hand in hand,
They walked in joy through their father's land.

In easy task, or in thoughtless play,

By their father's side, pass'd the joyous day;
And, far from the rude world's cares and harms,
They lay at night in each other's arins.

No world knew they, save the isles around,
By the green sea wash'd, by the blue sky bound;
And, from the peak of the Sumburghhead,
They saw the sun sink in ocean's bed.

No joys had they but such as arise
From the sparkle of joy in each other's eyes,
No fear had they but such as springs

From the truth so fatal, that Time hath wings.

The tempests rose, and the winds rush'd by,
And the clouds hung deep on the murky sky;
The vessel struck, and, in luckless hour,
A mariner sought their father's bower.
He told of vales rich with golden fruit,
Where the voice of song is never mute;
Where perfume loads the languid air,
And man is daring, and woman fair.

He told of tempests deep and loud.

When lightnings show'd the rifted cloud;

When the sea-dogs howl'd, and the billows high

Rose up to splash the bending sky!

He told of battles afar at sea,

Where sabres shone, and blood ran frée,
Until, at length, o'er his seamen bold
Victorious ever his flag unroll'd!

The gentle Brenda's cheek waned pale,
At the awful close of each fitful tale;
But the heart of Minna fill'd her breast,
And the mariner stole her peaceful rest.
She liken'd him to the Sea-kings old,
Who swept the seas with their navies bold,
The Iarls of Norway proud and free,
The lions wild of the northern sea.

To the stranger youth she pledged her troth,
She fair,-he gallant,-they, loving both;
And he left her to plough the stormy main,
But vow'd to return to her bower again.
VOL. XI.

2Q

Like rose-bud bit by canker-worm,
Health fled her bright and fairy form;
Like a flower on dull September day,
She droop'd her head, and pined away.

And Brenda gazed with tearful

eye

On her sister pining, she knew not why,
She strove in love to ease her pain,

But the wound was deep, and her care was vain.

It was not that her lover now

Did cleave the ocean, with onward prow,

It was no dread of wave or wind,

That thus did bend her stately mind.

The youth, whose tales had won her heart,
Among sea rovers bore a part;

And whoever cross'd their fatal path,
By them were plunder'd, or slain in wrath.
Farewell for Minna the pure delight
Of mind serene, and soft dreams by night;
No more did she now to her couch depart
In joy, and uprise with an easy heart."
Her lover return'd, and fondly sought
His Minna's bower,-but she own'd him not,
And sicken'd in thought, that her love so fast
With hopeless night should be thus o'ercast!
They parted; he the salt seas to roam,
And she, in her beauty, to pine at home;
Like a flower, in loneliness more fair,
That sheds its sweets on the desert air.

All weakness of heart, and change above,
Her heart would own no other love;
But pure as the cloudless summer sky,
Did perish in its lone majesty!

A

AN ESSAY ON THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE CATEGORIES,

BY WILLIAM HOWISON.

Enumeration of the Categories in their true order—and exemplifications of them.—

Definition of the First.

The categories are the relations of, against what, as from one to anoparticular existence to the ideal, or the ther, from fewer to more, from the possible modes of being; and, in one colour of gold to purple; as, how, as or more of them, every particular ex- straight or crooked, rapid or slow, asistence must be found. Beginning cending or descending; u, where, as from likeness, or iμoov, the other cate- on the face of the earth; ori, when, as gories are necessarily derived in the fol- when stopped by a boundary; it, lowing order, which is the true; góc T, how much, as an equal quantity, or as against what; s, how, or in what three quantities, amounting to as much manner; TOυ, where; TOTE, when; or, as two other quantities; ivia, substanhow much; duría, substance or indivi- tive existence, as an individual atom, duality; w, to do; rásyen, to suf- or a stone; raw, to do, as to strike; fer; wody, of what substantive quality; way, to suffer, as to be drawn or emoba, to be arranged or situated; ved, or compressed or broken, or dimixv, to have or contain. nished, or increased; or, of what substantive quality, as good or bad, poisonous or healing; xai, to be arranged or situated, as to be above or

To give examples, pov, or likeness, is as the union of particular existence with the form which it occupies; gós

beneath, or in the same or different order on each side, or to be in the position of standing or sitting; x, to have or contain the particular within other limits besides its own, as money in a purse, or a thief in prison.

Twelve parts are capable of representing all the possible modes of particular existence: Therefore, twelve parts constitute a body; and it will afterwards be shewn, that those twelve deities, which the ancients reckoned as composing the council of the gods, were representations of the twelve categories.

in a form, is to be likened to some idea. To participate with others in likeness of form, is to be of the same kind. But internal likeness to idea, and essential sameness with it, is perfection. This may be called the category of Jove, or of the human likeness. Aristotle, in writing of busia, or essence, places form in the same category with it; and calls the forms, in which particular existences are, durga ovcíai, or second essences. His enumeration of the categories, therefore, wants that of likeness, or Lov, which should be the first; for the idea, in which any particular existences is contained, is part of the ideal, which is not comprehended in any of the categories.

CHAPTER II.

Juno.

Aristotle has not discriminated, how, as a separate category, but has placed it in the same chapter with wa, of what quality. Nevertheless, there is an essential and categorical difference between kind of form, and substantive quality. Before enumer- The Category of wçós τı, or Relation,— ating the categories, he treats of the application of common names to a class, and passes from that without perceiving that there must be the category of us, or the union of particular existence with idea; so he finds only ten categories, which are enumerated by him thus; veía, substance; ww, how much; or, of what quality; is, against what; ou, where; Tori, when; as, to be situated; x, to have; o, to do; wax, to suffer. But two other categories are required to complete the enumeration of the possible modes of being; and Kant, the German, perceived the necessity of there being twelve, although he has not shewn their order as necessarily constituted from each presupposing those which go before it.

It may perhaps be thought that, as the categories are the relations of particular existence to the ideal, so the category of gis T, or relation, should be the first in order; but wgós is relation among particular existences, when separated and different; and the first category must be that which supposes nothing but the union of single particular existence with idea.

CHAPTER I.

Пgós, or opposite to what, is particular existence, in relation to some other particular existence, from whence comes variety; and to this category belongs, in the first place, colour,-as the separation of the different hues from white. From the messenger Iris, this may be called the category of Juno. Number, also, arises from considering particular existences in relation to each other; as, one against two others, becomes the third. Aristotle places number in the category of quantity; but number, originally, is only relation. But when the single parts of number stand for quantities, then the amount is also quantity, which may be compared with other quantities. As number or difference does not suppose any fixed or certain arrangement, so this is also the category of the susceptibility of mingling, or freedom of composition, from whence the infinite variety of hues, which is like the transition of one kind of being into another. Ariadne, who, in ancient fable, was said to be the beloved of Bacchus, or inspiration, was reported to have been crowned in heaven with stars; which signified the feeling of separateness or variety. This, being the category of colour, is also that of

The Category of Likeness, duor, shewing, and of magnificence; for

Jupiter.

FROM position is the beginning of all particular existence; for particular existence is united with a place. To be

particular existence cannot be shewn, unless to some other particular existence, as opposite to it. Day, unto day, uttereth speech, and night, unto night, sheweth knowledge. When the