Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1851-07-24
Literary GOssip.--No. 10.
DIR. ISAAC WATTS.

Stoke Newington, London, is famous place in
the annals of literature. 1t is rural suburb Ct the
great city, situated between Kingsand and Edmons-
ton, upon the London road; and once was the
ideace of men and women, who, in its paradisca
gardens ofroses found recompense for the aspira-
lions which they gave TO the world in unnuubered
forms of benevoence and literature. Mrs Barbaud
dwell here; here Dr. Adam Clark pursued his inces-
SAINT studies; it was here that Daniel DeFoe wrote
his ''Robinson Crusoe'' and realized the peace of
nature, as conrasted with the prosecuting fury ofhe
preailsts; John Towards home was located in this
beautiful suburb of the nation of London; and for
more than thirty years, DR.. Watts runinated, and
wrote beneath the shadows of its trees. | have Of
ten gazed with interest upon the old brick house
where DeFoe lived, with its little area in front, sur
rounded by an iron railing, looking across the way
to Abney Park Cemetery as if a sympathy drew its
regards to that garden of old, in which Daniel, no
doubt, often roamed, ard where DR.. Watts certain
ly dwelt. 1t will be recoected that DIR. Watts, in
1898, was chosen assistant minister Of an Indepen-
dent congregation in Stoke Newngton, after he had
resided there as atuto in the family of Sir John 1ar
topp, for four years. Failing health, however, soon
disqualified him for the more arduous duties of his
calling, and finally, in 1872, he was admitted into
the house of Sir Thomas Abney, of Abney Park,
where he lived for ihirty-six years, and composed
those works which have made his name in Great
Britain and America, ''famiIiar as household words''
The old English mansion of the old English knight,
has given place to chapel where the rites of sepul
ture, according to the Episcopalian form, are per-
formed. The flowers that once were the compan-
ions of the joyous living who srayed in Abney Park
are now mementos of the dead that lie buried be-
meath its ufted sod. The trees that used to Irvine
their green arms together and spread arboral arches
over the heads of the beautiful and good who sal be-
meath in fe's gay morn, now throw their disheyeIed
tresses, in sad abandonment, over the tombs of the
beautiful and good, who have retired into the night
Of death, and who sleep the sleep that knows no
waking.
Abney Park is most extensive cemetery, with
conspicuous entrance from the London road but the
most interesting gatels that towards Paradise Row.
which is old, corroded, and worn, rough memorial
of what it was, when DR.. Watts lived there Stran.
gers who love pure Christianity and who reverence
the name of DIR. Watts, never leave London without
visiting Abney Park Cemetery; and it gratiies them
to find that there is spot there still sacred 10 his
memory. In retired corner, formed by the ccinci-
dence oftwo rough walls, over which waves shady
plane tree, is artificial elevation, where Dr. Watts
used TO sit and study, in pleasant weather. This
spot is still he left it, except that it has been
enclosed by light iron fence, and granite slab
with an inscription, has been built into the wall he
;, side it.
s. The old inhabitants of Stoke Newington will still
is garruously tell how Dr. Watts, when a little boy
had contracted habit Of rhymng, for which his ia
ny Their took him severely task and finally, when re
We buke seemed ineffective, he proceeded to castgat
he the tuneful child. With his eyes streaming wit
as tears, and his frame trembling with fear, Isaac fe
al upon his knees before his parent and exclaimed
Nc "Oh, father! do some pity take,
nd And will no verses make!"
ne II is needless say that the iucorrgible boy wa
as forgiven. Dr. Watts extremely small of stature
sS and it is said that once when he entered the Londo
Coffee House, malapert youth audbly alluded
: his dminutive person, when he turned to him an
- repeated, in low voice, these lines:
- Ii could reach from pole to pole,
- Or grasp the ocean in my span,
Hh would be measured by my soul =
ate The minds the standard of the man.