character, and manner of existing, which never forsakes a man." Though the objects presented to the mind of the country boy are less numerous, they are better observed, partly because they are more attractive, and partly because they do not hurry past him with a celerity which confuses his memory and deadens his interest. He knows nature as well as men. In a country town, or in a village or hamlet, everybody knows everybody. Boys hear of the deeds or misdeeds of their neighbors. They know 10 much about family history, talk about it at the fireside, and take an early interest in spoken biography. It may be said, indeed, that such biography is of the nature of gossip, but gossip at least indicates an interest in others, and wherever there is gossip there is also its counterpart, 15 friendship. In large cities, on the contrary, where men live in crowds, there is no gossip and little friendship, because they know little of each other and care less. Thus men live at a much greater social distance from each other in cities than in the country. 20 25 Though the country boy is much slower in arriving at maturity than the town boy, he is usually much greater when he reaches it. He is left more to his own resources, and is accustomed to do many things for himself, thus learning the essential lesson of self-help. When he arrives in town his faculties of wonder and admiration are excited; he feels himself in a new sphere, entertains new ambitions, which he endeavors to gratify, and by will and purpose he often rises to the highest stations in city life. Thus the country boy succeeds 30 better than the born Londoner. As the late Walter Bagehot* said: “Huge centres of intellectual and political life are said to be unproductive, and it may be that the feverish excitement which exhausts the parents' strength, and in which the youth of the offspring is spent, leaves but little vigor and creative power in the genuine cockney. At any rate, there are few men great either in politics, science, or art who have sprung from the exhausted soil of the metropolis." 5 There is something, however, to be said for cities. Men are social and sympathetic; they desire not only pleasure but culture. The ways in which men benefit by frequent intercourse with others are numerous. Science and literature centre in cities. "Man," says Dr. 10 Guthrie, "reaches his highest condition amid the social influences of the crowded city. His intellect receives its brightest polish where gold and silver lose theirs, tarnished by the searching smoke and foul vapors of city air. The finest flowers of genius have grown in an 15 atmosphere where those of nature are prone to droop, and are difficult to bring to maturity. The mental powers acquire their full robustness when the cheek loses its ruddy hue and the limbs their elastic step, and pale thought sits on manly brows, and the watchman, as he 20 walks his round, sees the student's lamp burning far into the night." III. THE LADY CLARE. BY ALFRED TENNYSON.' Ir was the time when lilies blow, I trow they did not part in scorn: "He does not love me for my birth, In there came old Alice the nurse, Said, "Who was this that went from thee?" "It was my cousin," said Lady Clare, "To-morrow he weds with me." "O God be thank'd!" said Alice the nurse, "Are you out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse,' Said Lady Clare, "that ye speak so wild?" "As God's above," said Alice the nurse, "I speak the truth: you are my child. "The old earl's daughter died at my breast; I buried her like my own sweet child, 66 Falsely, falsely have you done, O mother," she said, "if this be true, To keep the best man under the sun So many years from his due." 10 15 20 25 "Nay, now, my child," said Alice the nurse, "If I'm a beggar born," she said, "I will speak out, for I dare not lie. Pull off, pull off the brooch of gold, And fling the diamond necklace by." "Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse, "Nay now, what faith?" said Alice the nurse, "The man will cleave unto his right." "And he shall have it," the lady replied, "Yet give one kiss to your mother dear! "Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear, My mother dear, if this be so, And lay your hand upon my head, And bless me, mother, ere I go." She clad herself in a russet gown She was no longer Lady Clare: She went by dale, and she went by down, 5 10 15 20 25 The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought Dropt her head in the maiden's hand, Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower: "O Lady Clare, you shame your worth! Why come you drest like a village maid, That are the flower of the earth?" "If I come drest like a village maid, "Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, Oh, and proudly stood she up! Her heart within her did not fail: She looked into Lord Ronald's eyes, And told him all her nurse's tale. He laugh'd a laugh of merry scorn: He turn'd and kiss'd her where she stood: "If you are not the heiress born, And I," said he, "the next in blood "If you are not the heiress born, And I," said he, "the lawful heir, We two will wed to-morrow morn, And you shall still be Lady Clare." |