The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1881-02-16

and shows, and frivolity. Some in riches,
power, or fame which will at last, they
think, bring all they want. Some bother
fancy to create or hear exciting earthly
incident, and write or read of scenes of
glory, Hesperian Isles, the like of which
they hope one day to get into. Others
follow after human snaartness-art and
culture, as the way to freedom from the
shackles of the past, to safety from the
overhowing waters. Still Others strug-
Cling against the boundaries of the earth
ly prison-house, seek relief in imaginings
of ideal life, and piecing such high
thoughts together they construct melodi-
Gus verse, and sing of better things. AS
mariners we do every one start out on
life's voyage sterring for "Hesperian
Isles" cruising about in search of that
which satisfies Like boys coastinq on
the hillside, each takes his turn, and
launches proudly forth as he comes upon
the scene. Like coasting too, alas, gen
eral view shows little variation in success,
and little glory at the end
Consider now how honest and child
like the testimony of these lines. Like
others, when he grew up, and was able
to manage helm, he confesses that he
sailed too for 1.-The Hesperides. The
accent is on We" we too, as if to say,
let the truth be told. These lines were
evidently written by one who has come
to think considerably less of the universal
hustle, and eager, confident effort among
all youths to reach these Isles. For in
the first stanza, as if half ashamed of the
mistaken view of his youth, he wishes us
to know THAT was long ago" He is
older now. He has explored much,
learned much. His outgoing was favor
ed by good fortune and by friends along
the western course. By and by the love-
ly Mediterranean is passed. Gibralter is
behind him, and he enters the great
Ocean. He stands boldly out to sea-
That he says was long ago" In look
ing back now he scans perilous voyage
of various adventure, of good and i'll, of
inspiring hope, OF fainting heart or chill
monotony.
He is not where he started out to 90.
That is certain "The Ocean streams, -
those currents he could not fully over
come though battling bravely, have swept
him off, far off his course. How mighty
these; how feeble man,
See him as the poem opens, ploughing
stormy northern seas. See him standing
up in his frail bark looking steadily with
his glass at that bleak, rock-bound coast
ahead. He is trying to make out where
he is. There are times in the memory of
every one, however self-confdent, when
a dim uncertainty of his whereabouts
makes the mind uneasy. He thinks he
recognizes the dreaded Hebrides off Scot
land. Are not these thetempest- haunt
ed Hebrides, he asks himself Then t.
the lips instinctively rises the troubled
cry, " Whittier, all, whittier am I going,
eOh0t IS to be the tutaUre?" Poor man, as
he utters these words he lowers his glass
now raises it again, and so continues to
study that place as he had never thought
on earth before. How long in dubious
soliloquy he continued is not known.
What feelings like tumult coursed and
tried his heart we are not told The sea-
gulls scream around his head; hoarse
breakers roar. He sees the wrecks of
other men along the treacherous shore,
and sea-weeds, fit emblem of fixed, hope
less grief enwrap them there. A friendly
harbor opens to his view. He enters,
and thinks upon the past. A change has
come over him: he contemplates the
voyage from standpoint altogether new.
He contrasts the quiet haven he enjoys
with the evidences of terrible disaster all
about him. He has abundance of all
things this place affords. He is thank
full, very thankful. But memory of At
ta7atls lost breaks over him sometimes, an
icy wave. His bark is worn. And every
sign shows winter fast approaching. And
he must winter here.
The very best to be expected of us all
indeed is a calm harbor in "these tempest
haunted Hebrides," in this actual world
in which we are, before the winter comes.
And now exploring all around, and in
the very utmost isle, hoary with age he
lowers his tired sails to rest awhile.
Awhile and can he not yet give over
Will he resume the chase? The soul is
yet Unsatisfed. He still thinks of At
lantis stripped of its fctions, Atlantis
true; but where, oh, where2 Reasons
he has found from time to time to believe
it has not been located rightly on the
deep. He lands; he rests; he thinks.
When will it end With some this cruise
ends early; with some late; with otb9rs
NEVER In another little poem which
seems appropriately to follow we shall
see the end of this unending, endless
quest" N. M. B.
Eo,.f ToDoe,o ,aor Uor,;oox :, I,,ue. VI