still more incongruous. We see no reason why the old language of Scotch poetry may not still continue to be written, as it has of ten been, by our poets. Mr. Shairp, however, not only claims to spread his Scotch words over the fields hitherto appropriated to them, but to allow the favourites of his flock to wander at large over fresh fields and pastures new, into which they have never sought admittance before his time. The poem is divided into sixteen parts. The earlier cantos describe the childhood and youth of two sisters, the younger members of a family living in simple, almost patriarchal style, on a small Highland estate. These cantos bring before us their earliest recollection and impressions of this home, and of the old laird, their father, who died in their childhood; the daily tasks and life of the household; the occasional adventures, not without perilous incident, which left their vivid print in the memories of the children; their enjoyment in wandering over the shores and hills on beautiful spring and autumn days, when they mingled in happy and kindly intercourse with the country people, and listened to the wild traditions of older times; and lastly, as the crowning influence, subduing and harmonizing all the rest, the religious observances under which their youth was trained. The later poems trace the presence of all these impressions and influences on the life and character of one of these sisters, who marries and leaves her home, but retains through life the love of nature and romance, the kind and affectionate heart, the simple faith, the unworldiness, and the sense of duty, of which the germs were fostered by the happy and pious influences of home. The main idea which the poem seems to embody is expressed in these lines: "Ah! simple and long Are the faiths that they keep, Whose childhood has grown By calm mountains enfurled, Not tossed on turmoil Of a feverish world." The later events in this life are rather touched upon or alluded to than described, but the whole result is summed up in the concluding stanzas, called "Ingathering," from which we extract the following fine passage, describing the last reunion of the two sisters, whose bright and happy childhood forms the subject of the earlier poems : "She, too, the earliest, as the latest friend, Her sister playmate on the Highland braes, Came to the home of Moira, there to tend The evening of her days. For she had lived for others, one by one Had watched them fade, the dear ones of her house, And propped their failing feet, then wept alone Above their darkened brows. She came to see the rose blush, once so sweet, Albeit their orbs, the flashing hues all gone, Things beyond time and change, Yet full of human tenderness, that drew And still the high white brow serenely bent done O'er faded lineaments with a light not lent By any earthly sun. A year and more, they two beneath that roof Mingled the memories bright from Kilmahoe With calm thoughts fetched from that still world aloof, Whereto they soon must go. At times when all were gathered round the blaze, In nights of later autumn, she forsook On the hairst moon, that from alcove of blue Slanted the shadows of twin-silver firs To white sheep couching on the moon-bathed sward, Till thought was lost in years that once were hers, A far and fond regard. All the fresh fragrance of that early time, Lived once more on their memory and their tongue, All their long wanders o'er the hills of thyme, When limb and heart were young, Many a scene conn'd o'er, hour brought to mind, And dear name named for the last time on earth, Then to the grave of their mute thoughts consigned, Till the new heavens have birth. And when the end was come, and only truth Might go with her down the death-shadowed vale, He whom she leaned on from her dawn of youth That dread hour did not fail. Then in that home was sorrow, not despair: Like goes to like, and she had gone within, One dweller more among the many there, Her spiritual kin; Blending that season of first yellowing leaves, And ripe ingathering the bright land abroad, With thought, how safe are stored His holy sheaves, In the garner-house of God." The reader will see from this extract what is the main purpose of this poem. It presents to us many pictures and incidents of a kind of life, not in itself very eventful or remarkable, yet of considerable poetical interest, from its simple reality and close relation to nature; and it gives unity to these various representations by showing how they all aided in the formation of a character, very beautiful both in its human and spiritual aspects. Much of the charm and worth of the poem consists in its happy union of religious with poetical feeling. The spirit in which it is written is in some places grave and solemn; in others bright and cheerful; in others romantic and picturesque; but mingling with its gravest tones we recognise a fresh and genial enjoyment of nature; while even in the author's poetic sympathy with the wild, half-savage men of "Old Kintyre," we never miss the presence of a strong vein of religious meditation. Perhaps the best of the various poems which are strung together in Kilmahoe, is that called "The Sacramental Sabbath." Even apart from its connection with the other poems of the series, this deserves to be ranked among the most successful efforts to treat a sacred subject, and also among the best pictures from Scottish life, which we know of in recent poetry. It deserves to be read in the most pious and in the most cultivated homes in Scotland; and we should hope that it will remain not unknown to many English readers, who may have formed their notion of the great religious observance of our National Church from the terrible satire of Burns. We wish that we could quote the whole poem, and we are sure that our readers will be glad to exchange our own comments for the two following extracts from "The Sacramental Sabbath:" "And the western shores Atlantic, Send small bands since morn, far-travelled Sends each glen and hidden corry, While the kirkyard throng and thronger Here on green mound sits a widow, There you might o'erhear some old man 'See thou underneath this headstone Sweet the chime from ruined belfry There they sit, the men bareheaded Some on grey-mossed headstones seated, Laden with o'erflowing feeling Slow the people round the table Noiseless round that fair white table Tender hearts, their first communion, Distance-lulled the Atlantic roar, The different divisions of "Kilmahoe," though forming parts of one whole, may each be read and enjoyed as separate poems. They are composed in a great variety of styles, and are, we think, of somewhat unequal merit, or, at least, of unequal interest. There is, moreover, some want of continuity in the poem, regarded as a whole. The scenes described, and the impressions recorded, are indeed connected together by a common purpose, which is always kept in view; but in some places, it looks as if the purpose had been brought in as an afterthought, instead of having suggested the Ichoice of the details. There is, in fact, a double purpose in the poem, viz., that of describing nature and human life in a particular district of the Highlands, and that of tracing the growth of one beautiful character from childhood to old age. In some parts of the poem the connexion between these two purposes is close and natural; in others it strikes us as being much more remote. All the scenes and incidents described and recorded are represented as having left their impression on the mind of the principal personage; but this is a somewhat slender thread on which they hang together. The parts too in which the personages of the poem are made to express themselves are, we think, less successful than the descriptive and reflective parts. But if there is little of dramatic or narrative interest in "Kilmahoe," we feel as we read it that we are in contact with real impressions and real thoughts, coming freshly and immediately from the human heart, and from the heart of nature. We acquire a new interest in the life, the traditions, and the scenery of the Highlands; we feel as if we were present among the hills and glens and sea-shores that are here so vividly described; and we seem to gain a new insight into the beauty and worth of a good and gentle nature. While the whole subject is treated in a thoughtful, meditative spirit, there is a clear avoidance of all obscure speculation and recondite analysis. It is a great comfort in the present day to be able to read a new volume of poetry without having to familiarize one's-self with a new psychological theory, and an entirely new way of looking on all human problems. Simply as a change, we are glad once more to read a poem, the charm of which consists in the feeling with which the familiar aspects of nature and life are represented. Yet while in its general tone it is calm and moderate, it is not wanting in passages of lyrical fire and spirit. Among these we would especially notice "The Highland Fox-Hunter," which describes a kind of sport very different from, but not less adventurous and exciting than that familiar to the low country; and also "The Clearance Song," which may be read with admiration by every lover of poetry, whether he may or may not think that the poetic point of view is also the true point of view from which this question is to be looked at. As our last quotation from "Kilmahoe," we select the descriptive passage with which the poem opens: "Upon a ledge of hillside lea, 'Mid native woods the white house peeps, Through the copse and mountain leas, That sheen of sunny seas. And though summer-time from sea and hill Yet when sunshine comes, it comes so All seasons, happy or austere, Wholly to itself made o’er, Highlands, and with the Lowlands and the Hears, night and day, the murmurous lave ploughman. His sympathies are equally Of the flowing and backgoing wave, with the Covenanter and the Jacobite of old times. This is, to our mind, a far more truly poetical way of looking at our past history, than the political partisanship, which has identified nearly all our national poets-with the exception of the very greatest, Scott other side. It may be quite right that, in and Burns-heart and soul with one or the our opinions, we should side with one cause or the other; but we are glad also, with We believe that Mr. Shairp has, on the Mr. Shairp, to feel our heart stirred by the whole, succeeded in the object which he pro- chivalrous and gallant spirit of one party, posed to himself in writing "Kilmahoe." That without doing injustice to the stern earnestpoem will awaken an interest in and main-ness and self-sacrifice of the other. We do tain the memory of a kind of life "which not want the poet or the artist to determine prevailed in the lower Highlands" about the for us which was the right cause, but rather beginning of this century; some of the fea- to make us feel what was most genuine and tures of which have not even yet passed characteristic in the personal qualities of away. But we think that some of the short- those who condemned and fought against er poems in this volume establish more con- each other. clusively his right to be ranked as a poet. The nature of these shorter pieces is more suited to his natural powers. He seems to us to possess the poetic gift of interpretation rather than of creation, and to be more at home in short lyrical or descriptive pieces, than in continuous narrative or dramatic presentation of character. To maintain the interest of a long poetic composition, it is almost necessary that it should contain the evolution of some story, or action, or speculative principle. The success of a short poem consists in the power with which the true meaning of any incident or character, or of any scene or aspect of nature, is brought to the light. And it is with this power of feeling and seizing the true poetical spirit of particular places and circumstances, that Mr. Shairp is especially endowed. In these shorter pieces, we find scarcely any trace of that tendency to dilute his materials, and of those caprices of taste which, to a certain extent, detract from the merit of the longer poem. They are all composed either in genuine English or in genuine Scotch, and it is seldom that even a stanza appears to be thrown away. They are works of art in which the details are immediately suggested by the central feeling or idea. While different in form and style, they are nearly all inspired by the fervent nation. al spirit which animates "Kilmahoe." In many of them we trace also the same vein of humane and charitable religious thought which characterizes the former poem. We find also, that the author of these poems is as familiar with the scenery of our inland Among the shorter pieces, "The Moor of Rannoch" appears to us to be one of the finest. It has perhaps more force of imagination, and a more sonorous power of words and rhythm, than any of the others. The feeling of the grandeur of desolation, and of the majesty of nature's forces, is very strikingly conveyed in the following stanzas:"Yea! a desert wide and wasted, Washed by rain-floods to the bones; And along these dreary levels, As by some stern destiny placed, Girdled by its mountain chain : Mountain-girdled,-there Bendoran Down the gorges break away. Up yon thunder-throated glen, The melodies that linger Clouds, and mists, and rains before them Loud the while down all his hollows, To the desert roars and gleams. Sterner still, more drearly driven, There o' nights the north wind raves, His long homeless lamentation, As from Arctic seamen's graves. Till his mighty snow-sieve shaken Down hath blinded all the lift, Hid the mountains, plunged the moorland Fathom deep in mounded drift." In "The Lad of Loch Sunart" and "The Lass of Loch Linne," Mr. Shairp shows that he can feel and make us understand the poetry of human life as well as of nature, in the Highlands; and in the "Weird Wife of Bein-y-Vreich," he seems thoroughly to have identified himself with the very spirit of mountain mists and of the old Celtic mythology. We have equal pleasure in passing to the more familiar but not less poetical ground of the "Borders" and the "Lowlands." Among the poems connected with these districts, "The Bonspiel," "The Run," and "The Loosing Time," are all excellent in their way, and true expressions of the enjoyment or the toil of country life in Scotland. There are, we believe, many good songs which embody the spirit and joy of fox-bunting, but we know of none which suggests the poetry of sport in the way in which we are made to feel it in this account of "The Run," which begins among Lowland dells, passes over "plough and lea," and then on to the hills, and "west away to the moorlands : "THE RUN. "Hark hollo! brave hearts! 'Twas the hounds I heard ; With the sound of their going All the land is stirred. They have made every peasant From work stand still, With gazers they've crowned Every crag and hill. And the ploughman cried loud, By my team I stood, And heard them crashing Yon old fir wood. Down yon ash-tree river banks, All year in yon dells, Till the hounds come by and awake them. Forward waved the shepherd, More mute they grew, And the widow, as she sat On her lone cottage-floor, And at morn came the worn hounds And the huntsman knew 'That the chase was done, In conclusion, we do not hesitate to say that no volume of such true national poetry has appeared in Scotland for a long time. Mr. Shairp's poetry is something very dif ferent from a mere echo of Burns, or Scott, or our old ballads. He has found for himself, in his wanderings over Highlands and Lowlands, fresh fountains of inspiration. That which chiefly distinguishes this volume from the hundreds of meritorious verses which are written, and sometimes printed, in the present day, is that the author has really got a worthy and unhackneyed subject, which he cares for and understands better than any one else, which affords him great enjoyment, and which stirs his feeling to its depths. ART. VII. - - Vie de Jésus. Par ERNEST Where the sunbeams slant and fall, TIME enough has elapsed since the publi Flashed the dappled hounds, Making the dells musical. For sweeter they be, Than any chime of bells, cation of this remarkable volume to allow us to estimate its force and its weakness. We fear it must be ranked as one of the |