16 But mighty as thou art, Valdivia, know, Then first, when Valdivia turns Just heard to trickle through a covert near, The meek and holy character of Anselmo is amply expressed in the lines There was no worldly feeling in his eye,The world to him "was as a thing gone by." The lessons of piety and resignation by which he instructs his young convert Lautaro, and the relation of the tale of his misfortunes, are given with that sweetness and simplicity which the character demands, and which indeed pervade the whole poem. The adopted daughter of the Missionary has become the wife of Lautaro, which is the tie that binds him to the Spaniards. Another personage is now introduced, and one, the novelty of which is extremely pleasingnot that we mean to say that an inconstant lover is by any means new, but the mixture of gayety and melancholy of warmth of heart, and instability of principle, forms the charm which envelopes Zarinel the minstrel. He comes to Anselmo to relieve his conscience by a confession of his cruelty to "an Indian maid," who trusted, and was by him deserted. This, it will be readily conjectured, was the daughter of Atacapac, and sister of Lautaro, who found him in distress, pitied and led him to her father's hut. "The father spoke not:-by the pine-wood blaze, She sav'd my life-and kindness, if not love, And when I wak'd some melancholy strain, Far from the noise of life, and sounds of men, (Father, methinks, ev'n now I hear her say) Go to thy distant land-forget this tear And leave me unremember'd here to die! Yet notwithstanding her pathetic remonstrances, ambition conquers love -he leaves "her sorrows and the scene behind,"-and for this he craves absolution from her father. Though all Anselmo's admonition is equally excellent, we think these two lines all-expressive: "First by deep penitence the wrong atone, The succeeding canto presents maThe sublime and terrific scenes. ny different appearance of the several Indian warriors, particularly Caupolican their solemn invocation of their country-gods"-their denunciations of vengeance against the tyrants who invade their rights,-is told in the most forcible manner, and bear the attention along with eager impetuosity during the continuance of these mysterious ceremonies, and examination of the unfortunate Spanish captive, who, as he tremblingly pronounces the name of the hostile commander, and casts the billet into the trench, excites the renewed rage of the assembled avengers. "Valdivia !" Captive. At that name a sudden cry "Valdivia!-Earth upon the billet heap; Their appalling conference is interrupted. It ceas'd; when, bursting from the thickest wood, 5 Appeard. Each warrior stoop'd his lance to gaze On her pale looks, seen ghastlier through the blaze. "Save!" she exclaim'd, with harrow'd aspect wild; "Oh, save my innocent-my helpless child!" Then fainting fell, as from death's instant stroke. To the inquiries of the Chiefs from whence they come, the answer is, that the ship in which the Spanish woman was being wrecked, and the seamen having borne her and her child to shore, they were attacked and massacred by the Indians, leaving these two helpless beings now brought there for the sacrifice. They are saved by the intercession of the Mountainchief. This is the speech of Caupoli can: "White woman, we were free, When first thy brethren of the distant sea Came to our shores! White woman, theirs the guilt! Theirs, if the blood of innocence be spilt! Yet blood we seek not, though our arms oppose The hate of foreign and remorseless foes: Thou camest here a captive-so abide, Till the Great Spirit shall our cause decide." He spoke the warriors of the night obey; And, ere the earliest streak of dawning day, They led her from the scene of blood away. The Spanish woman is next represented bound, and pale, and weeping over her slumbering child, when a female voice resounds through the gloomy solitude, and an Indian maid appears, who, impelled by compas sion, has been induced to visit, and endeavour to relieve the captive; on hearing whose story, when she is told that the wretched mother was following a beloved husband, the tender recollections of the Indian are awakened, and finely shewn in her empassioned exclamation. "Oh! did he love thee then? let death betide, I heard their signal-guns at distance roar. An The Indig to the farthest glimmering hill, Ted, till en Itata's side, The Spanish camp and night-files they descried: Then on the stranger's neck that wild maid fell, And said, "Thy own gods prosper thee!--Farewell!" Canto the sixth. From the festivities of "the Castle Hall" Lautaro retires to "wander by the moonlight sea," his bosom torn with sad remembrance. A scene of great interest there ensues between him and the unhappy Olola, whom at first he knows not; but after she had fled, a sudden thought flashes on his mind that he has beheld his sister. Zarinel, whose minstrelsy, meanwhile, had delighted the revellers, now languid and weary from the past VOL. VI. gayety, and with a mind at variance with itself, seeks the shore. As thus, with shadow stretching o'er the sand, An Indian corse was roll'd beneath his feet: When poor Olola in that corse he knew! "Oh, my poor sister! when all hopes were past Of meeting, do we meet-thus meet-at last?"* Then, full on Zarinel, as one amaz'd, With rising wrath and stern suspicion gaz'd; (For Zarinel still knelt upon the sand, And to his forehead press'd the dead maid's hand.) "Speak! whence art thou? Upraising, answered, Pale Zarinel, his head "Peace is with the dead! Him dost thou seek who injur'd thine and thee? Here-strike the fell assassin-I am he! "Die!" he exclaim'd, and with convulsive start Instant had plung'd the dagger in his heart, When the meek father, with his holy book, trembled-struck his brow-and, turning round, And placid aspect, met his frenzied look, He Flung the uplifted dagger to the ground. pray'r Then murmur'd-" Father, Heav'n has heard thy The seventh canto is taken up with the warlike preparations of the Spaniards, till the final engagement, all which is conducted with great spirit and dignity of expression. The following is the energetic account of the decisive moment: With breathless expectation, on the height, Lautaro watch'd the long and dubious fight: Pale and resign'd the meek man stood, and press'd More close the holy image to his breast. Now nearer to the fight Lautaro drew, When on the ground a Warrior met his view, Upon whose features Memory seem'd to trace A faint resemblance of his Father's face; O'er him a horseman, with collected might, Rais'd his uplifted sword, in act to smite, When the Youth springing on, without a word, Snatch'd from a soldier's wearied grasp the sword, And smote the horseman through the crest: a yell Of triumph burst, as to the ground he fell, -Lautaro shouted, "On! brave brothers, on! Scatter them, like the snow!-the day is won! Lo, I! Lautaro,-Atacapac's son!” The Indians rally inspired with fresh courage, attack the enemy anew, and in a few moments the fate of the Spaniards is decided. The shouts of victory ascend-Valdivia is made prisoner. Anselmo, too, is carried away captive, and Zarinel expiates by death his injuries to Olola. The last canto records the fate of the devoted Valdivia, which Lautaro is unable to prevent. The aged and mortally wounded Atacapac survives but to know and embrace his son. The Missionary is preserved, and, in C the Spanish woman and her infant, Lautaro finds his wife and child. The last duties are paid to the remains of the Mountain-chief; and such is Anselmo's concluding prayer: "Here, too," he cried, "mybones in peace shall rest! Few years remain to me, and never more Shall I behold, oh Spain! thy distant shore'! Here lay my bones, that the same tree may wave O'er the poor Christian's and the Indian's grave. O may it-(when the sons of future days THE CHRISTIAN AND CIVIC ECONOMY OF LARGE TOWNS, BY THOMAS CHALMERS, D. D. No. I. It is the intention of Dr Chalmers to publish, quarterly, the successive chapters of a work on the comparative habitudes of a city and a country population. The subject is one of mighty importance, and we have no doubt that broad lights will be streamed upon it from his powerful and original mind, lifting up into general knowledge truths that have long been lost sight of even by the wisest philanthropists. We shall have much satisfac tion in following Dr Chalmers throughout his interesting inquiries and speculations, and shall endeavour to lay before our readers a condensed view of the leading arguments of each Number of his work. It is well observed by him, in the preface to the first Number, that there is a great deal of philantropy afloat in this our day. At no period, perhaps, in the history of the human mind, did a desire of doing good so earnest, meet with a spirit of inquiry so eager, after the best and likeliest methods of carrying the desire into accomplishment. Amidst all that looks dark and menacing, in the present exhibitions of society, this, at least, must be acknowledged-that never was there a greater quantity of thought embarked on those speculations which, whether with Christian, or merely economical writers, have the one common object of promoting the worth and comfort of our species. It must be confessed, at the same time, that much of this benevolence, and more particularly, when it aims at some fulfilment, by a combination of many individuals, is rendered abortive for want of a right direction. Were the misleading causes to which philanthropy is exposed, when it operates among a crowded assemblage of human beings, fully understood, then would it cease to be a paradox-why there should either be a steady progress of wretchedness in our land, in the midst of its charitable institutions; or a steady progress of profligacy, in the midst of its churches, and Sabbath schools, and manifold reclaiming societies. The great and leading position which Dr Chalmers advances is this, that the same moral regimen which, under the parochial and ecclesiastical system of Scotland, has been set up, and with so much effect, in her country parishes, may, by a few simple and attainable processes, be introduced into the most crowded of her cities, and with as signal and conspicuous an effect on the whole habit and character of their population-that the simple relationship which obtains between a minister and his people in the former situation, may be kept up with all the purity and entireness of its influences in the latter, and be equally available to the formation of a well conditioned peasantry-in a word, that there is no such dissimilarity between town and country, as to prevent the great national superiority of Scotland, in respect of her well principled and well educated people, being just as observable in Glasgow or Edinburgh, for example, as it is in the most retired of her districts, and these under the most diligent process of moral and religious cultivation. So that, while the profligacy which obtains in every Glasgow: Printed for Chalmers and Collins, 18, Wilson Street. crowded and concentrated mass of human beings, is looked upon by many a philanthropist as one of those help less and irreclaimable distempers of the body politic, for which there is no remedy-he maintains, that there are certain practicable arrangements which, under the blessing of God, will stay this growing calamity, and would, by the perseverance of a few years, land us in a purer and better generation. I.-The first essential step towards the assimilation of the power and influence of religion, and the character of its ministers, over the population of large towns, to that exercised in country parishes, is a numerous and wellappointed agency. By dividing his parish into small manageable districts-and assigning one or more of his friends in some capacity or other to each of them-and vesting them with such a right either of superin tendance or of inquiry, as will always be found to be gratefully met by the population-and so raising as it were a ready intermedium of communication between himself and the inhabitants of his parish, a clergyman may at length attain an assimilation in point of result to a country parish, though not in the means by which he arrived at it. He can in his own person maintain at least a pretty close and habitual intercourse with the more remarkable cases; and as for the moral charm of cordial and Christian acquaintanceship, he can spread it abroad by deputation over that portion of the city which has been assigned to him. In this way an influence long unfelt in towns, may be speedily restored to them, and they know nothing of this department of our nature, who are blind to the truth of the position that out of the simple elements of attention, and advice, and civility, and good-will, conveyed through the tenements of the poor, by men a little more elevated in rank than themselves, a far more purifying and even more gracious operation can be made to descend upon them, than ever will be achieved by any other of the ministra tions of charity. Such arrangements as these are peculiarly fitted to repair the disadvantages under which a city, purely commercial, necessarily labours. In all such cities there is a mighty and unfilled space interposed between the high and the low, in consequence of which they are mutually blind to the real cordialities and attractions which belong to each other, and a resentful feeling is apt to be fostered, either of disdain or defiance. To destroy all such unhappy feelings of animosity or repugnance, no better plan can be devised, than to multiply the agents of Christianity, whose delight it may be to go forth among the people, on no other errand than of pure good will, and with no other ministrations than those of respect and tenderness. Nothing, we think, can be more beautiful than the paragraph in which Dr Chalmers winds up this part of his argument. "There is one lesson that we need not teach, for experience has already taught it, and that is, the kindly influence which the mere presence of a human being has upon his fellows. Let the attention you bestow upon another be the genuine emanation of good will-and there is only one thing more finding access to a man's heart, is to go to to make it irresistible. The readiest way of his house-and there to perform the deed of kindness, or to acquit yourself of the wonted and the looked-for acknowledg ment. By putting yourself under the roof of a poor neighbour, you in a manner put yourself under his protection-you render him for the time your superior-you throw sured that it is a confidence which will alyour reception on his generosity, and be asmost never fail you. If Christianity be the errand on which you move, it will open for you the door of every family; and even the profane and the profligate will come to recognise the worth of that principle which prompts the unwearied assiduity of your services. By every circuit which you make amongst them, you will attain a higher fluence and in spite of all that has been vantage-ground of moral and spiritual insaid of the ferocity of a city population, be assured that, in your rounds of visitation, you will meet with none of it, even among the lowest receptacles of human worthlessThis is the home-walk in which you ness. earn, if not a proud, at least a peaceful popularity-the popularity of the heart-the greetings of men who, touched even by your cheapest and easiest services of kindness, have nothing to give but their wishes of kindness back again; but in giving these have crowned your pious attentions with the only popularity that is worth the aspir ing after the popularity that is won in the bosom of families, and at the side of deathbeds." II. A second most essential step towards the assimilation of a city and a country parish, is one simple and unembarrassed relationship between_the heritors and the kirk-session. Into the details of this part of the pamphlet it is needless now to enter. Suf fice it to say, that Dr Chalmers contends for this equitable privilege of a city clergyman, that he shall enjoy the same advantages with the very humblest minister of the establishment in his own retired country parish. If this, says he, be to strike out from the local system of any one city, it is also to fall in with the general and original system of Scotland. If it be to impart a form from the provinces, it is with the view of perfecting and strengthening that vehicle by which it is a possible thing to impart the cordiality, and the moral discipline, and the comparative virtue of the provinces along with it. III. The third essential step towards the assimilation of a town with a country parish, is an entire exemp tion of the minister from all the secularities which of late years have been oppressively heaped upon his office, and which are still augmenting upon it, at a rate of rapid and alarming accumulation. Dr Chalmers exposes the mischief of such secularities by a narrative of the way in which the sanctity of the clerical profession has been disturbed and violated. This we give entire. Among the people of our busy land, who are ever on the wing of activity, and, whether in circumstances of peace or of war, are at all times feeling the impulse of some national movement or other, it is not to be wondered at, that a series of transactions should be constantly flowing between the metropolis of the empire, and its distant provinces. There are the remittances which pass through our public offices, from soldiers and sailors, to their relatives at home; -there are letters of inquiry sent back again from these relatives;-there is all the correspondence, and all the business of drafts, and other negotiations, which ensue upon the decease of a soldier, or a sailor;-there is the whole tribe of hospital allowances, the payment of pensions, and a variety of other items, which, all taken together, would make out a very strange and tedious enu meration. “The individuals with whom these transactions are carried on, need to be verified. They live in some parish or other; and who can be fitter for the required purpose, than the parish minister? He is, or he ought to be, acquainted with every one of his parishioners; and this acquaintance, which he never can obtain in towns, but by years of ministerial exertion amongst them, is turned to an object destructive of the very principle on which he was selected for such a service. It saddles him with a task which breaks in upon his ministerial exertions; which widens his distance from his people; and, in the end, makes him as unfit for certifying a single clause of information about them, as the most private individual in his neighbourhood. "Yet so it is. The minister is the organ of many a communication between his people and the offices in London,-and many a weary signature is exacted from him,-and a world of management is devolved upon his shoulders, and, instead of sitting like his fathers in office, surrounded by the theology of present and other days, he must and have his well-arranged cabinet before now turn his study into a counting-room, him, fitted up with its sections and its other conveniencies, for notices, and duplicates, and all the scraps and memoranda of a manifold correspondence. "But the history does not stop here. The example of government has descended, whole field of private and individual agency. and is now quickly running through the monies, is one out of several examples that The regulation of the business of prizeoccur to me. The emigration of new settlers to Canada was another. The business of the Kinloch bequest is a third. It does not appear, that there is any act of government authorising the agents in this matter to fix on the clergy, as the organs either for the transaction of their business, or the conveyance of their information to the people of the land. But they find it convenient to follow the example of government, and have accordingly done so; and, in this way, a mighty host of schedules, and circulars, and printed forms, with long blank spaces, which the minister will have the goodness to fill up, according to the best of his knowledge, come into mustering competition with the whole of his other claims, and his other engagements. It is true, that the minister may, in this case, decline to have the goodness; but then, the people are apprised of the arrangement, and, trained as they have been, too well, to look up to the minister as an organ of civil accommodation, will they lay siege to his dwelling-place, and pour upon him with their inquiries; and the cruel alternative is laid upon him either to obstruct the convenience of his parishioners, and bid them from his presence, or to take the whole weight of a management that has been so indiscreetly and so wantonly assign. ed to him. In this painful struggle between the kindness of his nature, and the primi tive and essential duties of his office, he may happen to fix on the worse, and not on the better part. It is not reason, that even, for such a service, I should leave the ministry of the word and prayer. But, in an unlucky moment, I did so, along, I believe, with a vast majority of my brethren; and out of the multitude of other doings, from this source of employment alone, which are now past, and have sunk into oblivion, the |