The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-10-16
5rlcftc0.
From Gleasdn's Pictorial Companion.
ALLAN MOORE.
by GEORGE CANNING HILL.

The day was very rainy-and a rain.
day in the Country is not pleasant sor
of IA day, either that is, SO far as out 0
oors goes. 1t was drip, dip, eys..
where. The caves poured down thci
food into the gutteIs; the cutters car
ried along tie waters till they loa. e.
ami gurglcd at the marrow throatcC
sEouts.
Drops of rain, huge and round, bea
against the pans, made spattercd spot
upon them, and ran slowly down to The
sash. The sky was overcast with til,
densest and du!iast of clouds, sullen in
their seeming, through which a thread OF
the golden sun would have found it ha d
wo. X to pen ttate. 1t wa. just sach a
day as Is apt to assemble in ones weary
brain those deuoniical creatures called
&" blue devils" and set them to wori
busiiy on the Imagination. 1t was day
when trayelo.s draw up for rest and
shelter at the snuggest inns when old
housewives Iummage numbered garrets
and set ancient spinning wheels to
singing new tunes; when husLandmen
husk corn, or shell it from the ear, or
make improvements about their barns,
and sheds, and grauaries; when the mist
drives drearily across the distant stubble
fields, aud cattle rejoice that they are
safely housed from it all when the
atmosphere seems heavy and thick, and
difficult respiration a.d when dry
rooms, shelves Of books, soft rug and
a deep easy chair are objects most COW
eted by persons of geod taste.
In an old country cottage-brown,
low rooted and mossy-was sitting a
young man, whose name forms the title
to the present story. He was by him
self, in a small AMI cherries room, and
leaned his head on his hand, and his
elbow on the table. An open book lay
before him he had been reading. Just
now, however, his eyes had wandered off
through the window, and over the far-ofl
fields, where the rain was driving so
steadily. \ sense of loneliness-plea-
SAINT, though mournful-stole over his
heart, and showed itself in his dreamy
eyes.
lie had been reading from a volume
of the old British cssayist; such a vol
umc as embraces papers from the pens
of Sir William Temple, aud soft and
earnest Abraham Cowley, and Boiling
broke, Tillotson and Jeremy Taylor
He had revelled over the sweet words
of Cowley, in his admirable essay on
gardening, and bis heart was filed with
tender sentiments and simple joys, that
take their root even in humble kitchen
garden. He had lost himself in the
gorgeous imagery, a..d terse expression,
and fervij sentences OF Jeremy Taylor.
He looked up as he finished Sir William
Temple, AMI coveted the tuition that so
wonderful a genius as Jonathan Swift
had received beneath his roof; and
looking, he gazed out at the window,
and his feelings so inwove themselves
with the liquid thread of falling rain,
that they inscnsibly took the sombre
hue of the day itsel..
lie was ambitious. More than this
Allan Moore had a strong and steady
yearning after the enjoyments of schol
arship; he thought more of them than
of the honors. And thus inclined, he
bent down over his books. The attain
mcnts he coveted were to be had only
after incredible patience and pains.
They were not the fruits of II wish, or a
Sudden impulse. And this he seemed
early to know. He felt that he must
plant over and over again to insu C
himself the golden harvest at last. lie
knew that while the ends were glorious,
the means ty which to attain them were
in the hands only Of those who labor,
and watch, and strive constantly.
Whatever his dreams at that particu.
lar moment might have been, he did not
make them known by any expression.
1t was quite a long time that he thus sat
leaning his head on his hand, and watch
ing the falling Of the rain. The clouds
never once lifted, nor broke up; but
the rain kept coming down, sometimes
in larger, and sometimes in smaller
streams, and again it vanished away into
a dense, driving mist. 1t must, how
ever, have quickened his thoughts won
derfully. T
He saw the doves strutting proudly
beneath the caves of the old barn, where