: EGBERT GRANT. B5 EOBEET GPvANT. Born 1785 — Died 1838. The Plight Hon. Sir Egbert Grant, governor of Bankrupts. In 1826 he was elected to Par- of Bombay, was born in the county of Inver- liament for the Inverness district of burghs; ness in 1785. He was descended from one of and he afterwards sat for Norwich and the the most ancient families in Scotland. With new borough of Finsbur}'. He was appointed liis elder brother Charles, the late Lord Glen- one of the commissioners of the Board of Con- elg, he was entered a member of Magdalene trol, was sworn a privy-councillor in 1831, and College, in the University of Cambridge, of the year following was appointed Judge- Advo- which they both became fellows. Here he cate-General. In June, 1834, he received the graduated with the highest honours in 1806, appointment of governor of Bombay, and con- and adopting the profession of the law he was tinued to discharge the duties of this impor- called to the bar at Lincoln's Inn in 1807. In tant office till the time of his death, which 1813 he published a pamphlet entitled "The took place at Dapoorie July 9, 1838, in his Expediency Maintained of Continuing the Sys- fifty-third year. An elegant volume, entitled tem by which the Trade and Government of "Sacred Poems, by Sir Robert Grant," was India are now Regulated," and also "A Sketch published by Lord Glenelg in 1839. In the of the History of the East India Company from preface he says: — "Many of them have its First Foundation to the Passing of the already appeared in print, either in periodi- Regulating Act of 1773." He held the office cal publications or in collections of sacred of King's Sergeant in the Duchy Court of Lan- poetry; but a few are now published for the caster and was made one of the Commissioners first time." LITANY. Saviour: when in dust to thee By the anguished sigh that told Low we bow the adoring knee; Treachery lurked within thy fold, AVhen, repentant, to the skies From thy seat above the sky Scarce we lift our weeping eyes: Hear our solemn litany. O ! by all thy pains and woe. Suffered once for man below. By thine hour of dire despair. Bending from thy throne on high. By thine agony of prayer, Hear our solemn litany. By the cross, the wail, the thorn, Piercing spear, and torturing scorn. By thy helpless infant years. By the gloom that veiled the skies By thy life of want and tears, O'er the dreadful sacrifice, By thy days of sore distress Listen to our humble cry, In the savage wilderness. Hear our solemn litany. By the dread mysterious hour Of the insulting tempter's power; By the deep expiring groan. Turn, 0! turn a favouring eye, By the sad sepulchral stone, Hear our solemn litany. By the vault whose dark abode Held in vain the rising God By the sacred griefs that wept ! from earth to heaven restored. O'er the grave where Lazarus slept; Mighty reascended Lord, By the boding tears that flowed Listen, listen to the cry Over Salem's loved abode; Of our solemn litany. —; ; — ;; 86 EOBEET GEANT. And still, in displeasure, thy goodness was there. Disappointing the hope and defeating the joy. "WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE?" The blossom blush'd bright,but a worm was below The moonlight shone fair, there was blight in Lord of earth! thy bounteous hand the beam; this glorious frame hath planned; Well Sweet whisper'd the breeze, but it whisper'd of AVoods that wave, and hills that tower, woe Ocean rolling in his power; And bitterness flow'd in the soft flowmg stream. All that strikes tlie gaze unsought, All that charms tiie lonely tliought, So eur'd of my folly, yet cured but in imrt, Friendship—gem transcending price, I turn'd to the refuge thy j^ity displayed; Love—a flower from Paradise. And still did this eager and credulous heart Yet, amidst this scene so fair, Weave visions of promise that bloom'd but to fade. Should I cease thy smile to share. What were all its joys to me! I thought that the course of the pilgrim to heaven have I in earth but thee? AVhom W^ould be bright as the summer, and glad as the mom; of heaven! beyond our sight Lord Thou show'dst me the path—it was dark and EoUs a world of purer light: uneven. There, in Love's unclouded reign. All rugged with rock, and all tangled with Parted hands shall clasp again; thorn. Martyrs there, and prophets high. I dream'd of celestial rewards and renown; Blaze—a glorious company; I grasped at the triumph which blesses the AVhile immortal music rings brave; From unnumber'd seraph-strings. I ask'd for the palm-branch, the robe, and the Oh! that world is passing fair; crown Yet, if thou wert absent there. I asked—and thou show'dst me a cross and a What were all its joys to me! gi'ave. Whom have I in heaven but thee? Subdued and instructed, at length to thy will Lord of earth and heaven I my breast My hopes and my longings I fain would resign Seeks in thee its only rest! 0! give me the heart that can wait and be still. I was lost—thy accents mild Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but thine. Homeward lur'd thy wandering child: I was blind— thy healing ray There are mansions exempted from sin and from Charmed the long eclipse away; woe mortals untrod; Source of every joy I know. But they stand in a region by rivers of joy but they roll not below; Solace of my every woe. There are — Yet should once thy smile divine There is rest —but it dwells in the presence of God. Cease upon my soul to shine. What were earth or heaven to me! AVhom have I in each but thee? COMFORT UNDER AFFLICTION. AVhen gathering clouds around I view. "BLESSED LS THE MAN AA'HOM THOU And days are dark, and friends are few. CHASTENEST." On him I lean who, not in vain, Experienced every human pain: Saviour! whose mercy, severe in its kindness. He sees my wants, allays my fears, Has chasten'd my wanderings and guided my And counts and treasures up my tears. way; Ador'd be the power which illumin'd my blind- If aught should tempt my soul to stray ness, From heavenly wisdom's narrow way; And wean'd me from i>hantoms that smil'd to To fly the good I would pursue. betray. Or do the sin I would not do; Enclianted with all that was dazzling and fair, Still he who felt temptation's power I follow'd the rainbow—1 caught at the toy; Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. ! GEOEGE BEATTIE. 87 If wounded love my bosom swell, In my parent ocean's breast Deeeiv'd by those I prized too well, I hasten away!" He shall his pitying aid bestow, Who felt on earth severer woe; Many a dark morass. At once betrayed, denied, or fled, Many a craggy pass. By those who shared his daily bread. Thy feeble force must pass; Yet, yet delay If vexing thoughts within me rise, " Tho' the marsh be dire and deep, And, sore dismay'd, my spirit dies; Tho' the crag be stern and steep. Still he who once vouchsafed to bear On, on my course must sweep, The sickening anguish of despair. I may not stay; Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry. For oh ! be it east or west. The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. To a home of glorious rest In the bright sea's boundless breast, When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend. 1 hasten away!" Which covers what Avas once a friend, And from his voice, his hand, his smile, The warbling bowers beside thee, Divides me—for a little while, The laughing flowers that hide thee, Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed. With soft accord they chide tiiee. For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. Sweet brooklet, stay! " taste of the fragrant flowers, And 0! when I have safely past I I respond to the warbling bowers, Through every conflict —but the last. And sweetly they charm the hours Still, still, unchanging, watch beside Of my winding way; My painful bed— for thou hast died; ceaseless still, in quest Then point to realms of cloudless day. But that everlasting rest And wipe the latest tear away. Of In my parent's boundless breast, I hasten away!" THE BROOKLET. Know'st thou that dread abyss? Is it a scene of bliss? Sweet brooklet ever gliding, Oh! rather cling to this, Now high the mountain riding, Sweet brooklet, stay! The lone vale now dividing, "0! who shall fitly tell Whither away? What wonders there may dwell? well " With pilgrim course I flow. That world of mystery Or in summer's scorching glow, Might strike dismay; ' breast. Or o'er moonless wastes of snow. But I know 'tis my parent's Nor stop, nor stay; There held, I must need be blest. For oh! by high behest. And with joy to that promised rest To a bright abode of rest, I hasten away!" GEOEGE BEATTIE, Born 17S6 — Died 1823. could George Beattie, a man who, both from the The son of a crofter, who in the season to support value of the poetry he left behind him, and take to salmon-fishing to help him brought up in a the tragic nature of the closing years of his his family, he was born and which boasted only of a "but brief life, has claims on the sympathetic re- small cottage, three brothers and membrance of a generation other than his own, and a ben," along with his every morning was born in 1786 in the parish of St.