with extraordinary force, silences the conceit that intended to perplex or instrusct him, and intimidates the malice that was disposed to attack him. There is a feeling, as in respect of Fate, that the decrees of so inflexible a spirit must be right, or that at least they will be accomplished.

But not only will he secure the freedom of act◄ ing for himself, he will obtain also, by degrees, the confidence of those in whose company he is to transact the business of life. If the manners of such a man are free from arrogance, and he can clothe his firmnes in a moderate degree of insinuation; and if his measures have partly lost the appearance of being the dictates of his will, under the wider and softer sanction of some experience that they are reasonable, both competition and fear will be laid to sleep, and his will may acquire an unresisted ascendancy over many, who will be pleased to fall into the mechanism of a system, which they find makes them more successful and happy than they could have been, amidst the anxiety of adjusting plans and expedients of their own, and the consequences of often adjusting them ill. I have known several parents, both fathers and mothers, whose management of their families have answered this description, and displayed a striking example of the facile complacency, with which a number of persons of different ages and dispositions, will yield to the decisions of a firm mind, acting on an equitable and enlightened system.

The last resource of this character is, hard in. flexible pertinacity, on which it may be allowed to rest its strength, after finding it can be effectual in none of its milder forms. I remember admiring an instance of this kind, in a firm, sagacious, and very estimable old man, whom I well knew, and who is now dead. Being one of an English Jury, in a trial for life and death, he was completely satisfied of the innocence of the prisoner; the other eleven were of the opposite opinion. But he was resolved the man should not be condemned; and as the first effort for preventing it. very properly made appli cation to the minds of his associates, spending several hours in labouring to convince them. But he found he made no impression, while he was exhausting the strength that was to be reserved for another mode of operation. He then calmly told them, it should now be a trial who could endure confinement and famine the longest; and that they might be quite assured, that he would sooner die, than release them at the expense of the prisoner's life. In this situation they spent about twenty-four hours; when at length all acceded to his verdict of acquittal.

THE MOTHER'S DIRGE.

How fragrant is the breath of Spring;
The Lark and Linnet on the wing,
Their wild-wood carrols sweetly sing:

Oh list, how sweet, my daughter.

The morning sky is ting'd with gold;
The landscape lovely to behold;
The groves their vivid buds unfold:

Awake, arise; my daughter.

Art thou so fast in slumber bound?
And is thy chamber so profound?

So barr'd from light, so closed from sound?
So cold thy bed, my daughter?

No Sun thy narrow house can cheer;
No Spring, no Summer there appear;
No change of season marks the year;

No voice is heard, my daughter.

No play-mate can to thee repair;
Thy bed no loved companion share;
The worm alone has entrance there,

The silent worm,-my daughter.

Of late I mark'd on Avon's side,
The bending lily's silver pride,
Reflected in the crystal tide;

And thought on thee, my daughter.

Alas! in one revolving hour,
A chilling blast, an angry shower,
Bent down the lovely ruin'd flower :

How like thy fate, my daughter.

The spring is past, it swiftly fled;
For pain and sorrow on thy head,
The phial of affliction shed,

And blighted thee, my daughter.

But ah! the graces of thy mind,
Thy sense and gentleness combined;
Thy looks of love, and voice so kind,

Can I forget, my daughter?

Since 1 must quit this fatal place,
Oh! could I once more view thy face,

And fold thee in a last embrace,

And press thy hand, my daughter.

Or could I ope' thy lowly shrine,
And lay my burning cheek to thine,
The world, I think, I could resign,

S.

And sleep with thee, my daughter,

Communications addressed to the Publisher, No. 8. William Street, will be gratefully received.

Greenock: printed by R. Dona'dson.

THE

VISITOR,

OR,

LITERARY MISCELLANY.

No. VII.-VOL II.

Mr. VISITOR,

Sir,-As yours is the only periodical publication carried on within the county of Renfrew, I hope you will not think it foreign to the design of your work, to take some notice of public matters belonging to the county. There is one matter of a public nature which is certainly well worthy of animadversion: and I think it can only require to be stated, to excite the surprise, perhaps the indignation, of every one who has the interest and the honour of the county at heart.

The Trustees of the Roads of Renfrewshire are in the practice of holding their meetings out of the county, namely, in Glasgow; and their clerk is a writer residing, not in the county, but in the city of Glasgow. I can conceive no reason for this arrangement, unless it be that they cannot get a good dinner either in Paisley or Greenock. This may really be the case; though as I seldom have occa

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