-——

world of joy and sympathy and human interest through |
the porch of love. He enters a new world in his home—
the home of his own making—altogether different from |
the home of his boyhood, where each day brings with it
a succession of new joys and experiences. He enters also,
it may be, a new world of trials and sorrows, in which
he often gathers his best culture and discipline.”
far Mr. Smiles.

We are extremely glad to welcome a translation of M. |
Taine’s “‘ History of English Literature,” which now |
appears with a preface by the author. It is translated by
Mr. Van Lann, who has given four years to his work,
carefully examining and verifying every citation or
reference of his author. The work is of extraordinary
value. M. Taine understands England thoroughly,
whether in contemporary life, or in the historic past. He
somewhere says that England is the only country that
knows how to enjoy the past as well as the present. Even
in his idioms and the construction of his sentences, M.
Taine is often more English than French. He loves
Oxford as well and as wisely as most Oxonians. We may |
not agree altogether with M. Taine. We should be sorry |
to accept his judgment of Shakespeare, and the main |
theory of his work, but from Piers Ploughman to Tennyson
he hurries us along in a brilliant and accomplished vein of |
criticism which makes his writings attractive to all
critical readers.

So

THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.

=) PUDDING-FACED lout of a boy, sprawling

¥/ on his back amid the “gerse and fog” of

a hill-side by moonlight, playing with |
a string of beads, which sparkle in the

glimmer of a lantern placed by his side— |
surely it is a portrait of Wordsworth’s “Idiot boy,” who
was lost for a night, and could give no further account of
his rambles tnan that

The cocks did crow, Tu-whit, Tu-whoo,
The sun did shine so cold.

Not a bit of it, this is a shepherd exerting himself.
Every body knows that the shepherd has a bad character
for laziness; knows how a shepherd of Salisbury Plain, if
you ask him the road to any place, will simply extend the
right, or the left leg, as the case may be, and say “thick
way,” or “thae way ;” and how, on the same classic
ground, a shepherd won a prize for laziness—half-a-
crown for the one who would do the laziest thing—by
saying, “ Put it in my pocket, then,” without stirring a
limb, or even turning his face round from where it lay
buried in his arms on the grass. And yet shepherds are
a much maligned race in this matter of laziness. ' Their
work for the most part lies out of sight of ordinary
mortals; not knowing what it is to sleep in a bed for
weeks together, through the sleet and east winds of |
spring, busying themselves about their flocks before their
critics are stirring out of their beds, it is no wonder that,
when the warm sunny days come, the lazy tramp and
the idle pedestrian should find the shepherd sprawling
about the grass in attitudes which, if they are not
graceful, are unstudied ; and should assume, in his own |
fancied superiority, that the shepherd never had any
thing to do but to doze away his life in the sun.

THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.

| uncommon with reference to trades and professions

} never paid or thanked, which are not even known, and

/all by large classes, which is a great mistake ; and, con-

253 |

This method of judging other men’s work is not}

besides that of the shepherd. There is the spiritual |
shepherd; if he works, a great deal of his work is done
out of sight. He must read, he must write, he must |
plan and organize, he must correspond, he must keep |
accounts, and a hundred. other things for which he is

which, if known by his flock, would not be understood by
half of them to be work, by which they understand
ploughing, or punching holes, or laying bricks, or what-
ever may be the typical process of their craft—for manual
labour, kandwork, is the only thing recognized as work at

versely, they imagine every thing upon which handwork
has been bestowed to bear a proportionate value. In a
trades’ procession a few years ago, a wonderful piece of
elass-blowing, the result of much time and labour—a ship
in full sail, made entirely of glass—was carried in triumph
as the masterpiece of the craft. ‘ Ah,” said one of the
exultant glass-blowers, “it would be a long time before
Derby or Dizzy could do a real piece of work like that.”
The thing was utterly useless, it was in the worst possible
taste (for glass is not suitable for such work), and there-
fore it must have been irredeemably ugly; and yet,
because it had cost much time aud labour, hand labour,
therefore it was to be preferred to all the brainwork, and
moral and physical labours of the then leaders of the
respective Houses of Parliament. This notion is an old,
as well as a widespread one; it is embedded in the word
school,” where we flatter ourselves that a good deal of
work is done, and which yet is nothing but “ scholé,” the
old Greek for “leisure.” So that school hours are, according
to the original sense of the term, Jezswre hours; and,
contradictory as it may appear, this sense is fully recog-
nized at the present day; for how many hundreds of
boys are every day, for a time, or for ever, taken away
from school in order that they may go to work.

Does not this show how very deeply ingrained is the
notion, that hand-work is the only real work? But the
notion is a false one, and the shepherd-boy who forms
the subject of our cut, gives us a remarkable instance of
real hard work mistaken for idleness. His master, a
worthy Scotch farmer in a small way, observed the lad
sprawling about out-of-doors at night, apparently playing
with some beads, and laughed at him for it. Why not?
What could be more ridiculous? But the boy explained
himself. He was observing the apparent distances of
the stars from each other by means of his beads, and
jotting down the results on a sheet of paper by the light
of his lantern. He was mapping out the heavens, all
alone and unassisted, and without any previous instruction.
On finding this out, his master changed his opinion; he
did not laugh at him any more, but encouraged him, and
took so much interest in the work, that he would do the
lad’s farm-labour for him, that he might make fair copies
of his night’s work by daylight.

Other persons took notice of him; among them a |
gentleman who had a wonderful scientific butler took
him into his service. This man gave him a great deal of |
instruction, by which he profited greatly. But the butler
went to another service, and the lad went home, carrying
with him a book on geography, which his friend had |
given him. From the mere description of a globe in this |

book, unaccompanied by any drawings, he made one for |