The Press.
London, England, 1856-12-13 00:00:00

DECEMBER 13, 1856.

Who by his inborn greatness overtowers
The sons of men. And yet it was not so—
The light was of the star, and not of him,
For had the stet withdrawn its radiance,
He had but been a guideless wanderer
ln utter darkness o'er a pathless sea.
I am that pilot o'er that pathless sea—
The ocean—Life--and Thou the guiding-star,
Without whose love I should be cast adrift
In a frail, rudderless, and sinking boat,
Spurt for the tides of Life.

Here is a piece in a different style. It
might have turned up anywhere in " Whims
and Oddities ":

TO WILL-O'-THE•WISP.
Over the marish, and over the bog,
Over the pools, where arises the fog,
Lamp of the leeches and fire of the frog!
Why did you lead me astray?
Why did you gleam like a beaconing light,
Flickering out in the gloom of the night ?
I was quite sure you. were leading me right,
When 1 turned out of the way.
Faithless, and fickle, and treacherous lamp,
Why did I follow you into the swamp,
Where the soft ground was so slimy and damp,
And the long rushes so crisp?
Wet, worn, and weary I homeward have sped,
And find, on undressing and going to bed,
A leach in each boot and a cold in my head!
Treacherous Will-o'-the-Wisp!
If the father had dealt with that thought, he
would have added a reflective verse on the
vanity of hopes and the wild errors of ambi-
tion. 'to our taste, " Panurgus Pebbles, or a
Little of Everything is Nothing of Anything,"
is the most perfect piece in the volume. It
is the picture of a smatterer, and is very-
neatly executed. Here is the training of poor
Panurgus :
When Pebbles picked up his scraps of knowledge,
heaven only knows . Pcekilus Pigment, my artist friend,
has ever beside his easel a spare canvas whereon he
bestows at random the dabs of colour that remain in his
brush, while he is working up his great picture for the
Academy. On this canvas, upon the foundation thus laid,
he afterwards depicts such a subject as the prevailing tints
may suggest. l_'•an it be that Nature. when supplying the
crania of a number of mortals with brains of different ten-
dencies, casts into the head of Pebbles the supetabundaut
cerebral scraps.
Panurgus was the son of an old squire, whose spouse was
a fashionable lady.
The father took him out for a ride;
The mother sent him to school;

The paternal care taught him to sing, " Tally ho !"
'rhe maternal drilled him in the " Busy Bee ; "
The squire declared than his son should be " a man, not
a milksop "
The ludy said hers should be " a gentleman, not a
atahlc•boy."
Between the two influences, Panur•gus got off easily. If
he did not go to school his father would screen him from
his merited punishment ; if he refused to ride a spirited
horse his mother shielded him from his father's wrath ; if
he failed in the melody of " Tally ho !" the lady would
express her pleasure that he did not take a liking to
" a song that was not fitted for polite society." To which
the squire retorted by observing—" that as to the matter
of that, he did not think Dr. Watts was much better.
How about that line—

Abroad in the meadows to see the young lambs
Go sporting about by the side of their —.
A proper word truly to be put in the mouths of children !"
So far his piebald breeding and disposition did our
hero no harm—at least no present harm—but in after
)ears the effects of these two counter•inffuences came
upon him.

•
Here we have him at college. The reader will
observe the local colour of an Oxonian pen :
Four gownamen are strolling along the High-street
'‘lien our hero passes.
" Thattan old Bedleigh man," says one of the quartette.
" Horrid stick !" grunts Bales, the Sec. of the St. Mark's
Cull. Cricket Club. "He can't handle his bat a bit. I
didn't know anything of him at school."
He comes from our part of the world," says Snaffle
of Merton. " I have seen him out with the governor's
hounds : he funked at the first hedge, and I never saw
him again !"
" Look at his dwass !" drawls the elegant Pulker.
"One would think he—aw--drawssed himself with a
knife and fawk—aw. Whan he was at school he always
had five patches about his person; two—aw—that lie
knelt oc ; two—aw—that be leant on, and oue—aw—that
be sat on—aw !"

Poor Pebbles---had you only entered heart and soul into
line pursuit at school, how different had your reception
teen ! If you had given your attention to aquatics, how
proudly would Fcatherwell have introduced you to the
University eight! Ah—those crabs—truly cancers that
ate away 3our popularity! If yon hail been a cricketer,
Bides would have been proud of you ;—had you given your
attention to your toilette, Pulker would have honoured
you with his arm down the Broad walk on Show Sunday ;
had 3ou been a hard worker or prizeman at school,
Mugger and Grind, of lialliol, would have hailed you with
jny, and have proposed and seconded you at the Union.
Ilut no; Jack•otalbtrades and master of none was thy
character, and between the various stools we have wen-
timed etunz-et thou to the ground, oh Pebbles!