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FALVEY MEMORIAL LIBRARY
FALVEY MEMORIAL LIBRARY
Chambers's London Journal
Chambers's London Journal of History, Literature, Poetry, Biography, and Adventure, v. 2, no. 84, De...
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Chambers's London Journal of History, Literature, Poetry, Biography, and Adventure, v. 2, no. 84, December 31, 1842.
Blanchard, Edward Litt Leman.
22 October 2015
London: W. Strange ... W. Clements ... and G. Berger
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r". - ‘>‘-j-jg ..o .... no “or nnucn-non MEN nncohu: lulsr ro ].!AD, um‘ nlrrrcurr ro nurvl:-sasr -ro aovslm, B171‘ mrossrunn -ro r:.vsl.Avl:."-l.or.n BRCUGHAM. NUMBER 84. SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1842. The Last: Day of the Old Year. HY-Till ll7I1'l)l'l: . (31: the time this sheetis in the hands of our more distant readers, the year 1812 will have ended its career- with the time computers of this sphere, at all events-p and gone to keep company with its eighteen hundred and forty-one brethren that have preceded it since the Christian era. Some three hundred and sixty-five days have brought their contributions to our stock ofh:lppi- ness or unhappiness, and we now begin a new combi- nation of figures, which will identify, for the benefit of futurity, the transactions ofthc year 18-13. We care not ifthe last has been productive of individual misfor- tune or benefit, for we hold it the wiser plan to look only at the days of sunshine that make up the year, leaving the gloomy ones to be buried in the ccnotaph of the past. It is but a poor mind that continually evokes the recollection of sad thoughts. Life hasquite enough ofdespondency in its every-day occurrences, without adding to our sum of misery the items of past annoy- ances. In retrospt-ction, the ghosts alone ofdepnrted pleasures should stalk forthetho forms only ofburied joys sllould he disinterred; and if there be one time more than another when these phantoms should walk abroad, the last day of the old year is most assuredly the time fitting. It is then that we srrike, as it were, an annual balance between disappointed hopes and their realizations ‘" ‘ the fulfilment at self-made pro- mises, nnd those which we have broken. Man then hegins,.to acertain extent, his life again-there is a perplexing veil over the face of the future, which the hand oftime alone can remove; and accordingly we find that however uneasy at first we may be in encoun- tering the new year, habit at last renders it familiar to us, and the old one is regarded asa once intimate friend, who has left us for nye, and who lives only in the me- mory oi bygone realities. The bells are ringiug'out the old year; harmonious jaugling-for, contradictory as these phrases. seem, they imply, atthis moment,tllc feelings with which we hear thernestrilres upon the listener’s ear as the funeral ofone we loved, and truly is ita funeral that awakes their sound. The one year is dead-the other is born from the matrix ofTime, and scarcely a second separate:-sthe two changes. Various are the thoughts that creep OVPI ill? mind "5 midnight approaches, connected with the past. ‘lie ["9- aeut, llnd the future. Like Columbus, when recognising from the drifting seaarood that limited past him the proximity of a new world, the mental vision becomes conscious of another eventful era, from these symbols of time's swiftness. The mind leaps into the future, and dreams offuture bliss, always in store for those who bow down at the shrine of imagination, are ready to repay its votaries with glittering promises, that fade like the mirage ofArabia’s deserts us they are approached. But one more goblet of this toast and ale, and lo! poesy I‘:- minds us that rhyme may have its claim as well as rea- son. Our hrst 0lTering is to the past-brim up yon tunltnrd with the beverage of the season, till the liquid kisses thelips oftho curved ampulla, and, as, the old yeartlies, lend time wings ofjollity to cheer his path. ' "line. to but who long Hath wallcll the pod’! liglrl-3 The girl who gave Io song. , ' what gold could never buy!" And, with this apostrophe, let us, ye stalwart hearts, . whose pen has been ever ready to aid our labours, do right royal honour to the christening of 1843. A libs- No. 52. Val. ll. tion to the festive gods, and we will ourselves set the example for our vocal con‘ributors to follow- THI REGRET. There is a pleasant memory clings, To all our after years, That like a (ran ' ' . Ill‘ 1 never die, Iuoug we his wish in n dull, That rullnll our very Ilexrlsllings lic, Till death has snapped the Ihreull. There is one face um he or lcparls Though fate may do in mm, s n-con-.1 ll)i’e lhntl. clmius ollr h-an.-, lint ncvuzrlike me am: Th-rear: some hopi-s lllul ne'er llccay, Bill linger lolhe .ls'l. The lvllli;;lll uf(lt:paIle1.l day, The relics oftlla: past. So as eaclllwclvemnnlll days roll round, 2 lnwe l0i'L'Il of yore, ollr hearts llume joy: are found, we have full In-fun.-; Aml lhns as (oil: lllml bournc, , The lllmlal ' loves, We rind Ult it-cling-, lhonghls, rclurn, But nevcrfonllur loves. wnhin Thai No, by’r lady they are too soon embodied in that same Capulet cemetery the Swan ofllvon speaks of, to enjoy a patriarchal longevity. liut, right welcome, Owen Iowell, to our festive board, we have missed thee fmm our circle too long, and still more regret the cause. Troll a carol, man, instantcr, for the penalty of playing truunt in our pages, and we grant an absolution forth- with. Aye! that as nling nod is the best passport to our favour, so list, friends, to ihs SOINO OP " OWEN l>I0“'ILl.." “ Ding! Dong, dong." go we ohl cllurult hell... As uiry suing’ llrrul higll, rly. " Ding, llon dung, I Ihe olll church bells, enlrr ma l-hllrcll nnh glee, ‘ t'orlife,llleb h- laullwifc, in dong r on. r = E e < <- Ding, (long, tlovlg," go the nhl church bells, ' ' I I, lnll dad, by. go Ille ol-I rhnrcll bells, And why do you think Ihcy inn,-1 Thai llie than Hilly clalln a um-nan name " Ding, dong" an the cllrlslt-uinz 9 ey wing in llleir turret high For a rnnml huh Collie up the path, Sollleylnll r m . “ Ding, (Ion doing," go the old church bells, nd lllcy seem to loudl wall Oh! prepare to die for your lilllc is nigh, " illg, dung," lvr tllefuneral. " ping, (long, 4l<vng," go the on church heln There is a useful moral, friend Owen, in the lay that plenseth us much. It is a spirit such as this that pre- serves the belle: (elm: from becoming dead letters, and we hope that the day is far distant on which it becomes extinct. But think not, as that incipient smile indicates, our well-beloved Oscnliun, that you have betrayed n pun updh our lips; no, rather do weeschew the verbal- twisting art. A un is-but out with your tempting scroll, that looks as mysterious as Sperlser's “Faery Queene," and as enticing. too. " An imitation of Spenser, with an inimitable specimen of the llnthos," ehl Why hast thou forgotten in thy temerity that arch scribe, Mnrlinus Scrihlerus, who. in summing up a martial chnraclijrin most grandiloquent strains, suddenly pops plumb into the language of the regimental roll-book, nndis inspired by the muse of the "Army List ;" “Far-famed Dalhollsic ihc gm: god ol -m, Llclllenant-Colonel to the Earl of Mar." [last thou forgotten this’! No, we are sure not, but Pnlcn THREE HALFPENCE. thou wouldst fain essay nrivalship; then a place for Spenser redirirlls in our literary coterie A l..l,Vosc.u-2 (AFITR sruxszn.) n n osuo-rus-., Cay pratllinz down you rluhly nmlln!ain's brow, Yrparkling lriils a lime wayward stream, llltcrlng sweet. and rustling In ll! ow from OV'ry vlllbiolls he-nn Vnh myrinl sparks or lwiiltlllriiillg light That as tllry Iotlch the uallil like walllullrle luciri.-is ignite. Green on me mar vrtinh >r' ml rreqm-nt mute be llu-re e-pied, a fvw G.-an shaggy tuns hr corrcl crimson-tipt in hue. Ccrlu, um himplc mne was fair run! - Good sonlh, lhe slrminitl b2lJl.)ll‘ll mi imiocdi Aye gnniing in awhile; ‘lung Vi-lfet glow Di’ inox:-primkthnnit--, “in-re mhins lw u did breed Th:-ir t'dll0W)mIII;'. culling the tlmvny. cl Ofdsnllullun Im-try .-blossoms Ill Trt-Inhlvll (III by" . ;-lunllmlnlc wool Hm none rnnml nnninm lueen, WV r I'nq blink the purple-ningn moi um in hllns.-n nc‘cr Awlllkf. o u n o u N-.<hlen beyond l).-lme Nature‘: lillic di-plzy. sn y .-c.1I'l-r'rI on hrrtt-(min-1 . Far smllrrt than llic pipe nrnhihllinz iay nn, w.n.-.-., or the plinnm-em Mp- lrAma.,llnlna mivl my n E:-lmlvl lllmc remnant rrlllllbi nn...rn....nnq he The llalllsl-l nwin , -mu in more Turns on llII: oillor l-iilu, and gl‘I1lYIl)l(‘! " IVIMI a bore ."' an. a ibnusanll score l The old ycar is dying; his eyes lack lustre, his touch is cold and clamlny, and the feeble tones of his voice, breaking at intervals through the stillness of the night, are indicative ofllerlining strength. His last lamenta- tions are borne upon the breeze, and speak of the plea- suros of his youth,-ofthe grassy spring time, of the golden summer. of the gauzy autumn. llis mindreverts to Ihe long nights of.lune, wllcn stars looked downfrom Heaven to witness earthly bliss, to sanction the exchange of love-fraught vows, that perchancc his successor will see broken. He hath witnessed the la t hours ofmany human beings, and now we assemble lo behold his. He hath seen the aged tottl-r oil‘ the stage oft-xistence, and the young falter in the path oflife are the rose had paleul upon their cheek. lie hath seen tears fall more as refresh- ingdew than as dosolatingtorrents, breaking the heart and paling the check in their efects. and with all thishe has grown wiser in his progress, and profited by the lesson he has been taught. rt’ brave sclloolmasie is the old year that teacheth us much of what it is most profitable for us,to know. He is ever a trusty friend whilst he dwelleth amongst us, and when gone, his escutcheun is hung upon our hearts as a memorial of Ihe past, as a rnonilion for the future. Scatter roses on his bier, then, imtead of thorns, and for n dirge let us have ncnrol blyihe as the season which sees him drop into the tomb me. ' But, hark! the bells have chimed the last quarter, and I full argon of toast and ale is yet at our side. Up then, contributors, all, and drain it to the llregs. Stay, gently measure the melllegli-l in fair award to each, and pause awhile in solemn silence, as the old rear crawls slowly out. Erect, and with brow uncover:-ll, do honour to his muncs. Twelve o‘clocL' strikes-tlrinkl I 1842 is Dead. [ Z?‘ 0 "t ‘ lirnnz-colll rrmi.-a dwelling. 9 5 .)‘ouIn-- twuler. : twink-in labour. .. . , ‘mu’