1832.] Rivers! 175 



ferent. With the mighty river we have no distinct association ; all is 

 vague and indefinite. We know that they flow through vast unpeopled 

 solitudes ; and our only image is a joyless waste of waters flowing in 

 vain. Our associations with the great river are less depressing, and 

 somewhat more defined ; the sun rises on one bank and sets on another. 

 We have a vision of cities, and even of commerce ; but with these asso- 

 ciations of life many dreary ones are mingled. African deserts ; Ameri- 

 can forests ; flocks of buffaloes ; the solitary lion slaking his thirst ; or 

 the great river-horse walking by the shore. How different are the asso- 

 ciations now, indeed, recollections called up by the third class. We 

 see the large river rolling its ample flood through cultivated plains, 

 watering them into fertility and abundance ; and images of life and 

 utility are vividly present with us. Our associations with the fourth 

 class are similar, but more varied, and more defined. These lie nearer 

 home; and with the ample stream of the Thames, the Clyde, or the 

 Garonne, are presented a thousand images of cheerfulness and activity, 

 the very opposite of those which were associated with the mighty rivers 

 of the New World, giving no token of man or his works. Again, our 

 associations change at the recollection of the next class. We have to do 

 with nature rather than art ; utility is confined to the turning of the 

 mill-wheel, or the irrigation of the meadow. The small river cannot bear 

 upon its bosom the commerce of kingdoms, but it is familiar with the 

 charms of nature ; it visits by turns the sublime, the picturesque, and 

 the beautiful ; and our associations are with these : we see effect added 

 to the wild and desolate ; grace, to the gentle and pastoral. And now 

 we come to the family of streams the rifest of all in pleasing associa- 

 tions, and gentle and endearing recollections. For who is there that 

 has not passed a day a long summer day upon the banks of a cledr 

 brawling stream ? And who is there that does not associate with it a 

 thousand images of simple rural life, and a thousand scenes of quiet 

 delight ? The heart of an angler " leaps up" at the recollection ; he 

 sees the green pastoral slope before him, and he knows that at the foot 

 of it runs the trouting stream ; he quickens his pace, unscrewing his rod 

 as he walks on ; and now he sees the clear, yet dark-coloured water 

 tempting him forward, with all its eddies, and dimples, and little rapids, 

 and noise and bustle. But it is not the angler only to whom the stream 

 recals pleasant and endearing recollections; he is but an indifferent 

 worshipper of nature, who cannot wander the live-long day by the mar- 

 gin of a stream, without a rod. But the rivulet and the rill yet remain 

 to be noticed ; and with each of these our associations are somewhat 

 different. Rivulet 



Free rover of the hills, pray tell me now 

 The chances of thy journey, since first thou, 

 From thy deep prisoned well, away didst break, 

 A solitary pilgrimage to take. 

 9ffo ,;)S(T Among the quiet valleys, I do ween 



Thou with the daisied tufts of tender green, 

 iWsH Hast loving lingered ; didst thou not awake 



With thy soft kiss, the hare-bell bending low, 



r-1,1-1 / , i i -i i ^ 



Stealing her nectar from the wild bee s wooing ? 



And thou hast toyed (though thou wilt tell me, no) 



With many a modest violet, that looks 



Into thy glassy pools in secret nooks. 



Come, tell me, rover, all thou hast been doing ! 



