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the opportunity of correcting these mistakes by " was buried” for “ we buried;" and in a publishing an authentic copy of the poem. Dr. copy now before us of “Lough Bray,” ilthy Anster stated the fitness of this being done by the mili and random maiesty” is printed for academy, not only from its being the natural and proper guardian of every thing relating to the lit-1.
"“thy wild," &c., and “the mountain's dusky erature of Ireland, which alone would seem to him locks” are altered into “dusty locks.” But a sufficieat reason, but even yet more, from the the printer's are not the only mistakes to circumstance that the academy's proceedings must be guarded against. The caprices of vanity command a circulation over the continent, which are quite inexplicable. In a York paper, a it would be in vain to expect from any private pub- few years ago, Mr. Shelton Mackenzie met lication. The poem has been often translated, and a cóny of Wolfe's poem, with the title, the strange blunders which have often got into our an
| “The Burial of Sir John Moore, by the copies are faithfully preserved in the translations.
Rev. Charles Wolfe,” with two additional of a poem, consisting of but eight, are spoiled by stanzas, in no way whatever distinguished the translator's manifestly having read an imper- by any printer's mark, or any note or comfect copy of the original. In one it is quite plain ment from the rest, but appearing as part of that the stanza, which closes with the lines
the poem. We print them: "And we heard the distant and random gun, "And there let him rest, tho' the foe should raise, That the foe was sullenly firing,'
In zeal for the fame they covei,
A tomb or a trophy to swell the praise and in which the word suddenly' is often substi.
Of him who has soar'd above it. toted for “sullenly' was printed falsely in the copy before the German translator. In the second stan.
“By Englishmen's feet when the turf is trod,
On the breast of their hero pressing, za, The struggling moonbeam's misty light,' is
Let them offer a prayer to England's Godlost, probably from some similar reason. The gen.
To him who was England's biessing." eral effect of Wolle's poem is exceedingly well preserved in the translation, but there are several The date of Wolfe's letter to Mr. Taylor mistakes in detail, most of which, perhaps all, arisel in all probability gives us the year at least from the translator's having used an incorrect copy lin which the ode was composed. Mr. of the original. The translation is printed in the
O'Sullivan and the Bishop of Meath assign octavo edition of Hayward's Faust,' p. 304.”
an earlier date to it, but Mr. O'Sullivan's Dr. Anster's suggestion was adopted. recollection does not fix the year with acWolfe's autograph letter has been litho-curacy, though the evening walk during graphed and published by the Academy. which two stanzas of the poem were comWith anxiety to have this interesting doc- posed, makes it probable spring or early ument preserved, Dr. Luby generously pre- summer was the time. The Bishop of sented the letter in his possession, on which Meath's recollection is more precise as to he naturally placed a high value, to the the year, and would decidedly fix it as Academy, who have undertaken the custody written in an earlier year than 1816. He of it. We are not sure whether the follow- remembers having read the poem to Her. ing incident may not be worth mentioning, cules Graves in rooms which he had ceased which would be alone, were the authorship to occupy before 1816. So many of Wolfe's of the poem a question of doubt, sufficient compositions were handed about in manuto fix it. Mr. Downes, a friend of Wolfe's, script among his friends, that we cannot but favorably known to the public by his pub. think it more probable that twenty-six years lished works, before this copy of the poem after the incident, a friend recollecting an was examined, expressed considerable cu incident of the kind should mistake owe riosity to see it; mentioning a conversation poem for another, than that Wolfe, writing in which Wolfe expressed a doubt whether a year or more after the poem was composed, in the seventh stanza he should have “the should use the language which we have clock struck the hour for retiring,” or “the quoted from his letter to Mr. Taylor. clock struck the 'note' for retiring." Every In November of the next year—1817copy previously known gives it "the clock Wolfe took orders. His first curacy was struck the hour for retiring.” This acci- at Ballyclog, in Tyrone. A letter to one of dentally confirms Mr. Downes's recollec- his friends describes the position in which tion, as the word in this copy is “note,” he found himself. It is dated in December.
The fitness of having the autograph pre. He describes himself sitting opposite a turf. served for the reasons given by Dr. Anster, fire," with my Bible beside me, in the only which might at first appear too strongly furnished room of the glebe-house--surstated by him, is amusingly proved by the rounded by mountains, frost, and snow, and misprints in the best editions of the Reby a set of people with whom I am wholly mains. The printed sheets of the eighth unacquainted, except a disbanded artillery edition contain this error in the first stanza, I man, his wife, and -- wen, who a"
me—the churchwarden, and clerk of the family, (with the exception of a cow which was parish.” In another letter he describes him. driven alongside of the wagon,) and its contents self as “surrounded by grandees, who
were two large trunks, a bed and its appendages;
and on the top of these, which were piled up so as count their income by thousands, and cler
to make a very commanding appearance, sat a gymen innumerable ; however I have kept woman (my future housekeeper) and her three out of their reach: I have preferred my children, and by their side stood a calf of three turf-fire, my books, and the memory of the weeks old-which has lately become an inmate in friends I have left, to all the society that my family." Tyrone can afford-with one bright excep.
“ Castle Caulfield, Oct. 20th, 1818. lion. At M 's [Meredith's-we feel it * * * “I have no disasters now to di. a duty to supply the name I am indeed versify my life--not having many of those enjoyevery way at home. I am at home in inents which render men obnoxious to them, except friendship and hospitality, in science and when my foot sinks up to the ankle in a boy, as I literature, in our common friends and ac. am looking for a stray sheep. My life is now quaintances, and in topics of religion.” | nearly made up of visits to my parishioners-both
sick and in health. Notwithstanding, the parish This last letter from which we have quoted
is so large that I have yet to form an acquaintance was written from Castle Caulfield, the prin- with a very formidable number of them. The cipal village of Donoughmore, the parish parish and I have become very good friends : the of which (after a few weeks' service at congregation has increased, and the Preshyterians Ballyclog) he became the curate. After a sometimes pay me a visit. There is a great numshort visit to Dublin we have a few letters
| ber of Methodists in the part of the parish surroundfrom his parish, one of which we must tran
ing the village, who are many of them very worthy
people, and among the most regular attendants scribe :
upon the church. With many of my flock 1 live “Castle Caulfield, January 28th, 1818.
upon affectionate terms. There is a fair proportion
of religious men amongst them, with a due allow. - A man often derives a wonderful advantage
ance of profligates. None of them rise so high as from a cold and fatiguing journey after taking
the class of gentlemen, but there is a good nuinber leave of his friends ; viz. he understands the coni
of a very respectable description. I am particufort of lolling quietly and alone by his fireside, after
| larly attentive to the school: there, in fact, I think his arrival at his destination-a pleasure, which would have been totally lost, if he had been trans. advantages, it is a means of conciliating all sects
most good can be done, and besides the obvious ported there without difficulty and at once, from
of Christians, by taking an interest in the welfare ihe region of friendship and society. Every situa.
of their children. tion borrows much of its character from that by
“Our Sunday-school is very large, and is atwhich it was immediately preceded. This would
tended by the Roman Catholics and Presbyterians. have been all melancholy and solitude, if it had im.
The day is never a Sabbath to me; however, it is mediately succeeded the glow of affectionate and
the kind of labor that is best repaid; for you literary conviviality ; but, when it follows the
always find that some progress is made--some rumbling of a coach, the rattling of a post-chaise,
fruit soon produced; whereas, your labors with the shivering of a wintry-night's journey, and the
he old and the adult often fail of producing any conversation of people to wiiom you are a!most to
effect, and, at the best, it is in general latent and tally indifferent, it then becomes comfort and re.
gradual. Yours, &c.
C. W." pose. So I found at my arrival at my own cottage on Saturday: my fireside, troin contrast, became
“ Castle Caulfield, May 4th, 1819, a kind of lesser friend, or at least, a consolation
“I am just come from the house of mourning! for the loss of friends. “Nothing could be more fortunate than the Last night I helped to lay poor
i n his mate of things during my absence: there was no cotfin, and followed him this morning to fiis grave. duty to be performed; and of this I am the more
The visitation was truly awful. Last Tuesday sensible, as I had scarcely arrived before I met a
(this day week) he was struck to the ground by a great supply of business, such as I should have fit of apoplexy, and from that moment until the been very much concerned if it had occurred in my
| hour of his death, on Sunday evening, he never absence. I have already seen enough of service
articulated. I did not hear of his danger until to be again fully naturalized. I am again the
Sunday evening, and yesterday morning I ran ten weather-beaten curate: I have trudged roads, miles,
roads miles, like a madman, and was only in time to see forded bogs, braved snow and rain, become umpire
ir' his dead body. It will be a cruel and bitter thought between the living, have counselled the sick, ad- to me for many a day, that I had not one farewell ininistered to the dying, and to-morrow shall bury from him while he was on the brink of this world. the dead. Here have I written three sides without
| Oh! - , one of my heart-strings is broken. The coming to the matter in band. *
* only way I have of describing my attachment to “ Yours affectionately,
C Wu that man is by telling you that next to you and
D- , he was the person in whose society I took In another his migration from Ballyclog!he greatest delight. A visit to Ardtrea was often to his cottage at Castle Caulfield is des- in prospect to sustain me in many of my cheerless
labors. My gems are falling away ; but, I do scribed :
hope and trust, it is because God is making up his "One wagon contained my whole fortune and I jewels' Dr. M— was a man of a truly Chris
tian temper of mind. We used naturally to fall which he mainly agreed with them, and, above all, upon religious subjects; and I now revert with by a patience of contradiction, yet without a sur. peculiar gratification to the cordiality with which render or compromise of opinion, on the points "We took sweet counsel together' upon those upon which they differed. It is a curious fact that topics. You know that he was possessed of the some of the Methodists on a few occasions sought first and most distinguished characteristic of a to put his Christian character to the test, by purChristian disposition - humility. He preached posely using harsh and humiliating expressions tothe Sunday before, for – and the sermon was wards him in their conversations upon the nature unusually solemn and impressive, and in the true of religion. This strange mode of inquisition he spirit of the Gospel. Indeed, from several circum- was enabled to bear wth the meekness of a child; stances, he secms to have had some strange pre- and some of them afterwards assured him that they sentiments of what was to happen. His air and considered the temper with which such a trial is look some time before his dissolution lad, as - endured as a leading criterion of true conversion, told me, an expression of the most awful and pro- and were happy to find in him so unequivocal proof found devotion. * * * Yours, &c. C, W." of a regenerate spirii. We transcribe from Archdeacon Russell's almost as much on the manner as the matter of
“The success of a Christian pastor depends memoir some account of the district in his instruction. In this respect Mr. Wolle was which Wolfe's life was cast, and the duties peculiarly happy, especially with the lower in which he was daily occupied :
classes of the people who were much engaged
| by the affectionate cordiality and the simple earThe sphere of duty in which Mr. Wolfe was nestness of his deportment towards them. In his engaged was extensive and laborious. A large conversations with the plain farmer or humble portion of the parish was situated in a wild hilly laborer he usually laid his hand upon their shout country, abounding in bogs and trackless wastes; der or caught them by the arm; and while he and the population was so scaltered, that it was a was insinuating his arguments, or enforcing his work of no ordinary difficulty to keep up that in-appeals with all the variety of simple illustratercourse with his flock, upon which the success of tions which a prolific fancy could supply, he fasa Christian minister so much depends. When he tened an anxious eye upon the countenance of entered upon bis work he found the church rather the person he was addressing, as if eagerly thinly attended; but in a short time the effects of awaiting some gleam of intelligence to show that bis constant zeal, his impressive style of preaching, he was understood and selt." and his daily and affectionate converse with his parishioners were visible in the crowded and atten
Wolfe's duties were increased by the vitive congregations which began to gather round sitation of typhus fever in his parish. He him.
knew not what it was to spare himself when * The number of those who soon became regular any office of humanity required his exer. attendants at the holy communion was so great as tions—and here the demand on his time to exceed the whole ordinary congregation at the land thoughts was incessant. He was over. commencement of his ministry. * Amongst his constant hearers were many of wo
of worked, and symptoms of consumption bethe Presbyterians, who seemed much attracted by gan to manifest themselves. An habitual the earnestness of his devotion in reading the cough, of which he himself seemed almost liturgy, the energy of his appeals, and the general unconscious, alarmed his friends; and in simplicity of his life; and such was the respect the spring of 1821, it became too plain that they began to feel towards him, that they frequently the disease had made fatal progress. He sent for him to administer spiritual comfort and was persuaded to visit Scotland, in order to support to them in the trying hour of sickness, and |
"see a physician distinguished for his skill at the approach of death.
* A large portion of the Protestants in his in the treatment of pulmonary complaints ; parish were of that denomination, and no small and on his return, was met by the affechutuber were of the class of Wesleyan Methodists. tionate friend, whose record of his virtues Though differing on many points from these two is likely to perpetuate his own name with bodies of Christians, he, however, maintained with that of Wolfe. Archdeacon Russell (then
a curate in Dublin,) seized a moment from faroiliarly into discussion on the subjects upon ||
his duties to try and persuade Wolfe to atwhich they were at issue with him.
“ There was nothing in the course of his du-tend for a little while to his health. ties as a clergyman (as he himself declared) “On the Sunday after his arrival he accompawhich he found more difficult and trying at first, nied Wolfe through the principal part of his pathan how to discover and pursue the best mode rish to the church; and never can he forget the of dealing with the numerous conscientious dis. scene he witnessed as they drove together along senters in his parish, and especially with the the road and through the village. It must give Wesleyan Methodists who claim connexion with a more lively idea of his character and conduct the Church of England. While he lamented their as a parish clergyman than any labored delineaerrors, he revered their piety; and at length suc- tion, or than a mere detail of particular facts. As ceeded beyond his hopes in softening their preju- he quickly passed by, all the poor people and dices and conciliating their good will. This he ef. children ran out to their cabin-doors to welcome fected by taking care in his visits amongst them, to him, with looks and expressions of the most ardwell particularly upon the grand and vital truths in l dent affection, and with all that wild devotion of gratitude so characteristic of the Irish peasantry: now in full possession of the whole concern, enMany fell upon their knees invoking blessings tertaining him merely as a lodger, and usurping upon him; and long after they were out of hear the entire disposal of his small plot of ground, as ing, they remained in the same attitude, showing the absolute lords of the soil." by their gestures that they were still offering up prayers for him ; and some even followed the! He was induced for a while to leave his carriage a long distance making the most anx-curacy in the hands of another, and went ious inquiries about his health. He was sensibly to Dublin and the neighborhood for med. moved by this manifestation of feeling, and metical advice and change of air and scene. it with all that heartiness of expression and that There were alternations of health and debi. affectionate simplicity of manner, which made it him as much an object of love, as his exalted :
lity; he was even able occasionally to preach virtues rendered him an object of respect. The
The in Dublin, but the disease continued to make
D intimate knowledge he seemed to have acquired its sure and insidious progress. Towards the of all their domestic histories, appeared from the approach of winter (1820) he was advised short but significant inquiries he made of each to go to the south of France. He sailed for individual as he was hurried along; while at the Bordeaux, but was twice beaten back by same time he gave a rapid sketch of the particu. I violent gales, and then abandoned the plan; lar characters of several who presented themselves-pointing to one with a sigh, and to ano
and settled near Exeter during the winter ther with looks of fond congratulation. It was
and ensuing spring. The summer months indeed impossible to behold a scene like this, of 1822 he passed in Dublin and the vicinity. which can scarcely be described, without the In August he sailed to Bordeaux and back, deepest, but most pleasing emotions. It seemed as some benefit was anticipated from the to realize the olten-imagined picture of a primi. Ivoyage. In November he removed to the tive minister of the Gospel of Christ, living in the Cove of Cork-a town sheltered by the sur. hearts of his flock—' willing to spend and to be spent upon them '_and enjoying the happy in. rounding mountains from the winds. Mr. terchange of mutual affection. It clearly showed
Russell and a female relative of Wolse's ac. the kind of intercourse that habitually existed companied him. For a while he seemed to between him and his parishioners, and afforded revive, then sank again. He died on the a pleasing proof that a faithful and firm discharge morning of the 21st of February, 1823, in of duty, when accompanied by kindly sympathies | the thirty-second year of his age. On the and gracious manners, can scarcely fail to gain the hearts of the humbler ranks of the people.
"day before his death the physician who
. "It can scarcely be a matter of surprise that attended
orice that attended him, astonished at the solemn he should feel much reluctance in leaving a sta- fervor with which he spoke, exclaimed, tion where his ministry appeared to be so useful when he left the room of his dying patient, and acceptable; and accordingly, though per-“There is something superhuman about emptorily required by the physician he had just that man. It is astonishing to see such a consulted, to retire for some time from all cleri-1.
mind in a body so wasted-such mental cal duties, it was with difficulty he could be dis-1". lodged from his post and forced away to Dublin,
vigor in a poor frame dropping into the where most of his friends resided.
" It was hoped that timely relaxation from The plan of our work renders it, if not duty and a change in his mode of living to what impossible, yet inconvenient that we should he had been originally accustomed, and suitable give any extracts from his sermons, or to the present delicate state of his health, might
enter into any detailed examination of his avert the fatal disease with which he was threatened.
This is done by The habits of his life while he resided on
theological opinions. his cure, were in every respect calculated to con
Archdeacon Russell, and we have quoted firm his constitutional tendency to consumption. sufficient from his book to render it unneHe seldom thought of providing a regular meal, cessary for us to express our opinion of the and his humble cottage exhibited every appear- good sense and good feeling with which his ance of the neglect of the ordinary comforts of task has been performed, with more dis. life. A few straggling rush-bottomed chairs, tincinese
tinctness. To those who have time and piled up with his books-a small rickety table before the fire-place, covered with parish memo
opportunity to study the character of Wolfe randa-and two trunks containing all his papers,
more in detail than we can give it, there is serving at the same time to cover the broken much interesting matter, communicated parts of the floor, constituted all the furniture of chiefly we believe by the late Mr. Taylor, his sitting-room. The mouldy walls of the closet to be found in the tenth volume of THE in which he slept were hanging with loose folds ANNUAL BIOGRAPHY AND OBITUARY ; and his of damp paper; and between this wretched cell | and his parlor was the kitchen, which was occu-|
character and progress are sketched with pied by the disbanded soldier, his wife, and their great beauty in a volume to which we have numerous brood of children, 'who had migrated before alluded, entitled, COLLEGE RECOLwith him from his first quarters, and seemed LECTIONS,
| If then our converse falter into silence still and
deepFrom Fraser's Magazine.
Griel's hushed silence-do not deem it is because Since thou wert born, beloved one! ten changeful
we weep. years have cast
Too strong for words, too deep for tears, the feelings Their'shadows into Time, and now-thy life is of when Faith doth whisper-Now thou hast thy
that arise, the Past. And three-what dark and lonely ones!-their
birthday in the skies. weary course have sped Since, early summoned back to God, thy place was if in that radiant spirit-land where, sinless one! thou with the Dead.
art, The glance that spoke, the winning smile, the Thy mind can earthward turn, and read the thoughts radiance of thy brow,
that stir the heart, And every sweet and thrilling lone-their memory Then thou dost know, though strong our grief as haunts me now;
human grief can be, For beautiful as brief, alas ! bath been thy stay on We would not, if we could, renew Mortality for thee. earth,
Brief was thy pilgrimage below-too brief to feel its And bafiled Hope aye loves to muse upon the loved strifeone's worth;
Death to thy soul the birthday brought of an Eternal Affection sadly lingers o'er its broken dream of bliss Life. And mourns thee yet, though thine is now a better Enfranchised one! whose place is with the Watchers home than this.
round the Throne, It is for frail Humanity to mourn that thou art gone!
Bat Faith instrucis us, whatsoe'er our crush'd affecTen years ago!-how blithely stirr'd the spirit on
tions, pain, that morn
Unkind or vain to wish for thee the chains of earth When thou, oh, child of many hopes ! to glad our
again. hearts wert born. Was ever deeper welcome than those hearts accorded thee?
| For, far beyond the world of care thy soul hath Was ever more resemblance than all eyes would
stretch'd its wing; fainly see?
Thon sittest by Lise's holy fount, and drinkest from Ob, fond ones were around thee! and no dearer task). Its spring. than this
A brighter blooin is on thy cheek than what on earth To press thy little lips to theirs and give the primall it wore, kiss.
A heavenlier lustre lights thine eyes than what they We counted first thy life by days, which grew to
had of yore. happy years,
A richer melody doth blend its music with thy voice, And ever, when our hopes were dull'd, thy smile As it swells in praise before the throne,-and should dispersed our fears ;
we not rejoice ? A solace wert thou, lovely one! Above a grave of Thou hast gone home, departed one!-chainless, mine
thou art, and free ; Methought thy tears would fall ; alas ! I now weep We linger for that second birth which brings us over tbipe.
unto thee,Where, beautiful! thine angel-plumes are folded on
thy breast, And when-oh! far beyond thy years—thy search. And the cares of earth are ended, and the weary are ing spirit sought
at rest. la song and story the rich gems which losy Genius
February 23, 1839.
R. S. M. brought, Oh! what a whirl of joy was ours to dream what
time would bringTothink how bright thy summer when thus budding
was thy spring! Then, as the circling year's return thy birthday brought again,
ALEXANDER CSOMA DE KÖRÖS. Far distant were all auguries of sorrow or of pain.
From the Asiatic Journal. We saw thee bright, we knew thee dear, nor thought that there could be
This remarkable personage, distinguished The mortal taint of ill or death in aught so fair as not less by his enterprising travels, than by
thee. at was a holyday of love the circling year brought the zeal and success with which he applied back,
himself to the study of the language and litla which we traced, beloved one! thy travel in life's erature of Tibet, in circumstances which track.
would have conquered the perseverance of
many, deserves to be rescued from the obliWe kept that birthday joyfully, which now again we keep,
vion which, in this country, seems to be the With all the ienderness of love, and struggle not to fate of those who dedicate their lives to weep;
Oriental learning. We talk of thine endearing ways, and of thy gentle M. Alexander Csoma de Körös was born
mirth, Which sunn'd our hearts, as if there were no sorrow in Transylvania, as he states, of a Siculian on the earth.
family in Hungary, of great respectability. Many a heart-memoried word of thine, oft-named, He was educated at the College of Dehlten,
again we trace, And many a burst of joy, which breathed sweet
at Nagy Enyed, in Transylvania, and at th music o'er thy face.
| University of Göttingen, where he comple