JOHN STEELING. 2S1 JOHN STEELING Born 1306 — Died 1844. JoHX Sterling, the second son of Edward many, where he met his friend and former and Hester Sterling, was born at Kames tutor, with whom he had much serious conver- Castle, in the island of Bute, July 20, 1806. sation on religious topics, which resulted in Ills parents were born in Ireland, but -were his entering the Church. He returned to both of good Scotch families. Wiien John England, was ordained deacon in 1834, and was tliree years old the family removed to became Mr. Hare's curate at Hertsmonceux Llanblethian in Glamorganshire, and here his immediately after. He entered earnestly on childhood was nurtured amid scenes of wild the duties of his new calling, but after a few and romantic beauty. At first he attended months he resigned on the plea of delicate a school in the little town of Cowbridge, and health, and returned to London. For the sake Avhen the family removed to London in 1814 of a more genial climate he went to France, he was sent to schools at Green v.-ich and Black- and afterwards to Madeira, occupying his heath, and finally to Christ's Hospital. AVhen leisure hours in writing prose and poetry for at school he was known as a novel - reader, Blaclcirood. In addition to his numerous devouring everything that came in his way. contributions to this magazine and the quarter- At sixteen he was sent to Glasgow University, lies, he was the author of Arthur Coningshy, and at twenty he proceeded to Trinity Col- a novel published in 1830. Professor "Wilson lege, Cambridge, where he had for his tutor early recognized his merit as a poet and essay- Julius Hare, the future archdeacon, one of his ist, and bestowed very lavish praise upon him. two biographers, Thomas Carlyle being the He Avas a swift genius, Carlyle likening him other. Though not an e.xact scholar. Sterling to "sheet-lightning." became extensively and well read. His studies For several years Sterling led a kind of were irregular and discursive, but extended nomadic life, fleeing from place to place in over a wide range. Among his companions search of health. He visited London for the at college were Richard Trench, Frederick last time in 1843, when Carlyle dined with Maurice, Lord Houghton (then Monckton him. "I remember it," he says, "as one of Miines), and others, Avho were afterwards his the saddest dinners; though Sterling talked fast friends through life. copiously, and our friends—Theodore Parker The laAv had been originally intended as one of them —were pleasant and distinguished Sterling's profession, but after hesitating for men. All was so haggard in one's memory, some time he at last decided upon literature, and half- consciously in one's anticipations: and, joining his friend JIauriee, purchased the sad, as if one had been dining in a ruin, in A fhenceum, in which appeared his first literary the crypt of a mausoleum." Carlyle saw Ster- effusions. In 1830 he married Miss Susannah ling afterwards, and the following is the con- Barton, daughter of Lieut. -General Barton. clusion of his last interview with him: —"We Soon after his marriage he became seriously ill parted before long; bed-time for invalids being —so ill that his life was long despaired of. come, he escorted me down certain carpeted His lungs were affected, and the doctors recom- back-stairs, and would not be forbidden. We mended a warmer climate. He accordingly took leave under the dim skies; and, alas! went to the West Indies, and spent upwards little as I then dreamt of it, this, so far as I of a year in the beautiful island of St. Yincent, can calculate, must have been the last time I where some valuable property had been left to ever saw him in the world. Softly as a common the Sterling family by a maternal uncle. In evening the last of the evenings had passed 1832 he returned to England greatly improved awa\', and no other would come for me for in health. From thence he proceeded to Ger- evermore." Sterling died at his residence at — — 282 JOHN STEELING. Ventnor in the Me of Wight, Sept.18, 1844,— speaking of his religious opinion was unneces- cut down, like Siielley and Keats and Michael sarily apologetic. To this circumstance we owe Bruce, when on the road to fame. IIisreniain.s the " Life by Carlyle," in which a correspondent were inten-ed in tiic beautiful little burial- says: "Archdeacon Hare takes up Sterling as ground of Bonchurch. a clergyman merely. Sterling I find was a In 1839 a volume of Sterling's poems was curate for exactly eight months; during eight issued in London, and reprinted in the United months and no more had he any special rela- States. They are full of tenderness, fancy, tion to the Church. But he was a man, and and truth. "The Sexton's Daughter," a had relation to the Universe for eight-and- striking lyrical ballad written in early youth, thirty years; and it is in this latter character, is among the most popular of his poetical pro- to which all the others were but features and ductions. In 1S41 his poem in seven books, transitory hues, that we wish to know him. entitled "The Election," Avas published, fol- His battle with hereditary church formulas lowed in 1843 by the spirited tragedy of was severe; but it was by no means his one "Strafford." "Essays and Talcs by John battle with things inherited, nor indeed his Sterling, collected and edited, with a Memoir of chief battle; neither, according to my observa- his Life, by Julius Charles Hare,M- A., Kector of tion of what it was, is it successfully delineated Hertsmonceux," in two volumes, was published or summed up in this book." And so his in London in 1848. On reading that life, countryman and friend gave to the world interesting and beautiful though it is, one another and a better portraiture of John Ster- could not help feeling that there was a great ling—one of those lovely and noble spirits that deal remaining untold, and that the tone in charm and captivate all beholders. As is a rushy fountain's tone, TO A CHILD. As is the forest's leafy shade. Or blackbird's hidden serenade: Dear child! whom sleep can hardly tame. Thou art a flash that lights the whole As live and beautiful as flame. A gush from nature's vernal soul. Thou glancest round my gi-aver hours As if thy crown of wild-wood flowers And yet, dear child! within thee lives not by mortal forehead worn, Were A power that deeper feeling gives. But on the summer breeze were borne, That makes thee more than light or air. Or on a mountain streamlet's waves Than all things sweet, and all things fair; Came glistening down from di'camy caves. And sweet and fair as aught may be, Diviner life belongs to thee. With bright round cheek, amid whose glow For 'mid thine aimless joys began Delight and wonder come and go; The perfect heart and will of man. And eyes whose inward meanings play, Congenial with the light of day; Thus what thou art foreshows to me And brow so calm, a home for thought How greater far thou soon shalt be; Before he knows his dwelling wrought; And while amid thy garlands blow Though wise indeed thou seemest not, The winds that warbling come and go. Thou brightenest well the wise man's lot. Ever within, not loud but clear, Prophetic murmur fills the ear. That shout proclaims the undoubting mind; And says that every human birth That laughter leaves no ache behind; Anew discloses God to earth. And in thy look and dance of glee, Unforced, imthought of, simply free. How weak the schoolman's formal art Thy soul and body's bliss to part! I hail thee Childhood's very Lord, THE ROSE AND THE GAUXTLET. In gaze and glance, in voice and word. Low spake the knight to the peasant-girl, In spite of all foreboding fear, " I tell thee sooth, I am belted earl; A thing thou art of present cheer; Fly with me from this garden small. And thus to be beloved and known. And thou shalt sit in my castle's hall. ; ! —; — " JOHX STEELING. 283 " Thou slialt have porap, and wealth, ami plea- The fair white bird of flaming crest, sure, And azure wings bedropt with gold, Joys beyond thy fancy's measure; Ne'er has he known a pause of rest, Here with my sword and horse I stand, But sings the lament that he framed of old. To bear thee away to my distant land. "0! Princess bright! how long the night " Take, thou fau-est! this full-blown rose, Since thou art sunk in the waters clear! A token of love that as ripely blows." How sadly they flow from the depth below With his glove of steel he pluck'd the token, How long must I sing and thou wilt not hear .' But it fell from his gauntlet crushed and broken. "The waters play, and the flowers are gay, The maiden exclaim'd, —"Thou scest, Sir Knight, And the skies are sunny above; Thy fingers of iron can only smite; I would that all could fade and fall, And, like the rose thou hast torn and scatter'd, And I too cease to mourn my love. 1 in thy grasp shovild be wrecked and shattered." "0! many a year, so wakeful and drear, 1 have sorrow'd and watched, beloved, for thee! She trembled and blush'd, and her glances fell; But there comes no breath from the chambers of But ' she turned from the Knight, and said, "Farewell!" death, ^Vllile the lifeless fount gushes under the tree.