rted
spirit for the hour of unkindness, will scarcely for the future
incur that debt to the _heart_ which can only be discharged to the
_dust_. But the lessons which men receive as _individuals_, they
never learn as _nations_. Again and again they have seen their
_noblest_ descend into the grave, and have thought it enough to
garland the tombstone when they have not crowned the brow, and to
pay the honor to the _ashes_ which they had denied to the _spirit_.
Let it not displease them that they are bidden, amidst the tumult
and glitter of their busy life, to listen for the few voices and
watch for the few lamps which God has toned and lighted to charm
and guide them, that they may not learn their sweetness by their
silence, nor their light by their decay.'

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, the highest poet of our own century, has
thus given us the artist's creed of resignation, closing her chant with
his sublime Te Deum:

VOICE OF THE CREATOR.

''And, O ye gifted givers, ye
Who give your liberal hearts to me,
To make the world this harmony,--

''Are ye resigned that they be spent
To such world's help?' The spirits bent
Their awful brows, and said--'Content!

''We ask no wages--seek no fame!
Sew us for shroud round face and name,
God's banner of the oriflamme.

''We are content to be so bare
Before the archers! everywhere
Our wounds being stroked by heavenly air.

''We lay our souls before thy feet,
That Images of fair and sweet
Should walk to other men on it.

''We are content to feel the step
Of each pure Image!--let those keep
To mandragore, who care to sleep:

''For though we must have, and have had
Right reason to be earthly sad--
THOU POET-GOD, ART GREAT AND GLAD!''

END OF VOLUME FIRST.

THE LIONS OF SCOTLAND.

The 'restoration' mania which now pervades Great Britain, however much
it be declaimed against by certain hypercritical architects, is yet
certain to have at least one favorable result, in preserving to the
future tourist the noblest monuments of the past. The abbeys and castles
and tombs of England and Scotland are now so well cared for, that, ruins
though they be, they will last for centuries. And yet the observant
traveller can note, year by year, little changes, trifling alterations,
which, though without great importance, are not destitute of interest;
for he who has once visi