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Never a word she said to them, she knelt her close to his side

But many's the pass in Wensleydale where bracken thickest grows,

And not a pass in Wensleydale hut Hugh the forester knows.

VI.

I have barred the postern close, and flung the key in the fosse ;

There is but the hill to mount and the level

chase to cross,

The blue eyes opened, asked - hers spoke all
passionate woe and pride ;

He smiled as she kissed his lips; he gasped,
The hour is won!' and died.

XIV.

Full twice a hundred counted years in varying course have rolled

And he's safe in the thick oak wood, yonder by Since that noble band of loyalists fell on the

Aysgarth moss.

VII.

Keep them an hour, my boy, ere the ford by
Ure is won;
Gain but an hour, and then
- my life's last
task is done.'

VIII.

Twice had the clock boomed out, as steady and strong as Fate,

Yorkshire wold;

But legends keep, like uncut gems, heroic deeds of old.

XV.

Rest by the bonnie banks of Ure, mid the heather's purple flower;

Speak to the stalwart countryman of the hill

and old gray tower,

And he'll tell my tale, and show the ford, and call it Wyvil's Hour.'

S. K. P.

1

From Tinsley's Magazine.

MY FELLOW-CREATURES.

BY CHARLES MATHEWS.

I'VE lived sixty-four years

In this valley of tears,

And seen all sorts of men, that's a fact; And I've made up my mind

As to poor human kind,

That we're all of us more or less cracked.
It's all very fine

For your pompous divine
To give out from his pulpit of oak,
That we're all fellow-creatures;'
Like minds and like features;'
O, lawk! I call that a good joke.
For in what we resemble,-
How Kean was like Kemble,
Or Byron was like Dr. Watts,
I could never conceive;
No, nor do I believe

That teetotallers can be like sots.
Only take for comparison
Voltaire and Harrison,
Hannibal, Swift, and Fitzball;
And then say, if you dare,
In what they compare,

When they won't bear comparing at all.
Why, there's not been a man
Since the world first began,
Who resembled another in fact;
And, as far as I see,

They in nothing agree,

Except that they're more or less cracked.
There's your friend Julius Cæsar,
Who, 'twixt you and me, sir,

Was not a bad chap at a fight;
Now just say, if you can,

In what way such a man

Can be said to resemble John Bright?

Each is cracked in his way
And 'tain't easy to say

If the one or the other be right;
But it would be a teaser

To say Julius Cæsar

Was just such a man as John Bright.
There was Cardinal Wolsey;
Who lived down at Moulsey,
Was he, with his clerical mug,
Like Jack Shepherd the sinner,
Who hung out at Pinner,
And lived in a jollystone jug'?
Would you venture to state
That old Frederick the great'
Was Pierce Egan himself to a dot?
Or that Lion-king Carter'

·

Was like Charles the Martyr,' 'Judge Nicholson' like Walter Scott? You may argue forever

No matter how clever,

You cannot establish the fact,

That an eagle's a mouse,
Ora pill-box a house,

You'll prove nothing but this.

cracked.

Now take any two gabies,

And start them as babies,

-

And give them the same cup of pap; And bring both up in Surrey, Teach both Lindley Murray, And buy them the same leather cap. Dress up both little boys In the same corduroys,

- that you're

And whip both with the very same rod; You'll find all of no use,

One will turn out a goose,—

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One a scholar, and t'other a clod.
Teach 'em two tens are twenty,'
And, 'As in presenti,'

And put down Quae genus' before 'em;

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One quickly will holloa,

Mars, Bacchus, Apollo !'

Ere t'other can get out 'viorum.'
You may work like a nigger,
But when they get bigger

They'll grow more unlike ev'ry day;
Though they've felt the same birch,
One will take to the church,

T'other pay his half-price to the play.
One will idolise Homer,

And t'other Bob Romer;

And when they are free from the school,
One will live up in attics

And love mathematics,

T'other doat on Paul Bedford and Toole.
One man's born ferocious,
Another precocious,

One lamb-like, another defiant;
One's born for a writer,

And one for a fighter

One's a pigmy, and t'other a giant.
We all have our breeds,

And our various seeds,

Just like animals, fishes, and flowers;
You can't make a dog

From a sheep or a hog;

They've their classes distinct, and we've ours Who'd compare a bear's hug

To the bite of a pug?

Who'd have felt the least pity for Daniel,

If, 'stead of a cage

With wild-beasts to engage,

He'd been put in a den with a spaniel?

You might just as well try

To make elephants fly,

Or convert pickled pork into venison,
As compel a born coward

To fight like a Howard

A beadle to rhyme like a Tennyson.
All our different races

Have stamped on their faces

The marks that distinguish them — rather! You may tell the born glutton,

Who lives upon mutton,

From the savage who eats his own father. Why, just look at the Yankees !

I'd not give two thankye's

For all the fine things that they teach
About men being 'equal'-
They've found in the sequel

They can't carry out what they preach.
While the North stuck to figures,
South larrup'd its niggers,

And each called its mission divine;

Till the wrong and the right
Had a jolly good fight,

All to try and change nature's design.
After lots of hard thwacks,

The Whites found that the Blacks
Were considered as equal by no man;
A black woolly pate

Can't compete with hair straight

A snub-nose can't compete with a Roman. Both Sambo's detractors

And best benefactors,

Who glory in setting him free,

While they crown him with roses
Will still hold their noses,

And shrink from the same cup of tea.
Since to prove black is white

Is as difficult quite

As to prove London Bridge is at Brighton,
The notion dismiss

And depend upon this

That a Black man is not like a white un.
Now I'll tell you what do-
Take a boot and a shoe,

They are articles ev'ryone wears,
And compare them together,
Though both made of leather,
A cobbler will say they're not pairs.
So, though all made of clay,
We're not shaped the same way,

And our clay's mixed in various gradations;
At the time of our birth

We're all sent upon earth

Ready-made for our sundry vocations.
We all were created '—

That's true as it's stated

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But were not created for fellows;'

One's destined to play

On the organ all day,

T'other's destined to just blow the bellows.
Were it otherwise, why
Shouldn't good Mrs. Fry

Have been rival to Jonathan Wild?
Or Humanity Howard'

Been whipped, the old coward!

For grossly maltreating a child?
Twist us which way you will,
Nature will come out still;

You may fight her decrees till you're sick :
Nature meant Edmund Kean

Should illumine the scene

Worrell always was meant for a stick.' Thus will ev'ry man find

His position assigned;

He's to conquer the world, or sell figs ;

Be he Morland or Titian,

He works out his mission

Paints portraits, or only paints pigs.
One man's born to be funny
And squander his money,

Another's created to lend it;
The greater the bore,

Why the greater his store—

It's the pleasantest fellows who spend it.

It's some consolation

To know compensation

Is equally granted to all;

What by some men is wanted,

To others is granted

Brown's too short, and Thompson's too tall There's Commodore Rose

With the gout in his toes,

Eats his three meals a-day, and is ill;
While the poor starving peasant,
Who knocks down a pheasant,

In his life never swallowed a pill.
Then let all be content

Just to follow our bent,

And not bother our heads about others;

Let Nature alone,

Envy no man his own,

And jog on altogether like brothers.
Now, to sum up the whole

Of this long rigmarole,

It is wise to give each man his station;
It's really absurd

To treat all as one herd,

And drive all by the same education.
Try and humour the bent

With which each man is sent,
Duly stamped at the hour of his birth;
And assist the poor creature

To better his nature,

And act well his part upon earth.

If Tom Hood had been put

In a regiment of foot

He would never have let off a gun;

For in spite of hard drilling

I'd bet you a shilling
He'd only have let off a pun.

Do you think that Molière
When he polished a chair,

And worked hard as a pillow and bolsterer,
Didn't sicken to do it?

'Twas bosh- and he knew it

You couldn't make him an upholsterer.
Then don't say we're all made
Of one mould and one grade,

And all equal allow me to doubt it.
We're born wide apart

Both in head and in heart;

Its the truth, and so that's all about it.

---

COUNTING BABY'S TOES.

DEAR little bare feet,
Dimpled and white,
In your long night-gown
Wrapped for the night,
Come let me count all
Your queer little toes,
Pink as the heart

Of a shell or a rose !

One is a lady

That sits in the sun;
Two is a baby,

And three is a nun;
Four is a lily

With innocent breast;
And five is a birdie

Asleep on her nest.

A POSE FOR A PICTURE.

Does any artist, desirous of distinguishing himself, want a subject of which he may make a picture for the next Exhibition of the Royal Academy? Then here is one for him, in an extract from the Moniteur relative to the Spanish Insurrection: --

"The frigate Victoria, which had appeared before Corunna, retired in consequence of the attitude assumed by the Captain-General."

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OUR OLD FRIEND.- Mrs. Malaprop is full of the Elections. Her opinions, she says, with some confusion in her mind between plums and politics, are Preservative, and she is for the What scope this announcement affords for the Irish Church, having a cousin who is an Archconception of a grand historical picture! In deacon's Apparition. She is certain something the whole range of profane history there is only dreadful will happen to that Gladstone, who, she one instance at all nearly parallel to the wonder- hears, has crossed the Rubicund, and is perspirful fact which it proclaims. That occurred at ing with Bright and the Radicals. She has no the last siege of Acre, where the garrison imme- patience with women wanting to have votes, and diately laid down their arms on the appearance is delighted that the Reviving Banisters refused of Admiral Sir Charles Napier in the breach, them the Frances. Mrs. M. reads the foreign when he raised his walking-stick. This, how-news, as you may be sure when you hear that ever, was too simple a gesture to be suitable for she talks about the Bonbons being driven out of British pictorial illustration. But if there is any Artist sufficiently endowed with that sense of grandeur which is characteristic of Continental genius, he can embody it in a portrait of the Captain-General of Corunna, as he appeared in the attitude in consequence of which the Vic

toria retired.

Punch.

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DEATH OF THOMAS H. STOCKTON.

Spain.

Punch.

UPON the principle that a member of Parliament has no opinions beyond those with which his constituents entrust him, it may be maintained that a clergyman's only duty is to supply the religion and the morality of which his congregation approves. Such seems to be the theory of the Congregationalists worshipping t Broadstreet Chapel, Reading, who have calle upon their pastor to vacate his holy office, on the ground that he had "set up too high a standard of Christian life." The poor sinners of Reading have doubtless found their efforts to be consistently pious quite hopeless; and probably wish to have some kindly mentor who will make allowances for their infirmities.

THE Rev. Dr. Thomas H. Stockton, for many years chaplain of the House of Representatives, He was died at Philadelphia on Wednesday. born at Mount Holly, N. J., June 4, 1808. He began to write for the press at an early age, and also studied medicine at Philadelphia. In May, 1829, he began preaching, in connection with the Methodist Protestant Church. In 1830 TITIAN'S "Peter Martyr," it will be rememhe was stationed at Baltimore, and in 1833 was bered, was destroyed some time ago by a fire in An excellent copy of the picture poselected chaplain to congress, and re-elected in Venice. 1835. From 1836 to 1839 he lived in Baltimore, sessed by the Museum of Florence has been compiled the prayer-book of the Methodist Pro- kindly handed over by the Florentines to the city testant Church, and was for a short time editor of Venice. The "Last Judgment" in the church of the Methodist Protestant. He soon after re- of St. Marie, Dantzic, which was long considered signed and moved to Philadelphia, where he re-to be the work of Van Eyck, turns out to be a mained until 1847, as pastor and public lecturer, picture of Stourbout's. The contract for the exthen removed to Cincinnati, and was elected ecution of the picture has been discovered, and president of the Miami University, but declined, settles the question. and in 1850 returned to Baltimore, where he was for five years associate pastor of the St. A FRENCH chemist claims to have discovered John's Methodist Church, and for three and a half years pastor of an associate Reformed Presby-a method of manufacturing transparent lookingterian Church. Since 1856 he has lived in Phila- glasses- terms which seem to imply a self-condelphia. He was again Chaplain of the House from tradiction. Instead of mercury, he uses platinum 1859 to 1861, and in 1862 was chaplain of the for the back of the glass; and his preparation Senate. Rev. Dr. Stockton edited several period- has the virtue of concealing every defect in the icals and published an edition of the New Testa-glass itself. M. Dode says that his looking-glass ment in paragraph form. Also, the following may be used for windows, so transparent is it. works: Floating Flowers from a hidden If this is true, there need be no lack of mirrors Brook;" "The Bible Alliance;" "Sermons for in a house.

66

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JUST PUBLISHED AT THIS OFFICE :

OCCUPATIONS OF A RETIRED LIFE, by EDWARD GARRETT. Price 50 cents.
LINDA TRESSEL, by the Author of Nina Balatka. Price 38 cts.

ALL FOR GREED, by the BARONESS BLAZE DE BURY. Price 38 cts.

PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION AT THIS OFFICE:

HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE REIGN OF GEORGE II. These very interesting and valuable sketches of Queen Caroline, Sir Robert Walpole, Lord Chesterfield, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, Pope, and other celebrated characters of the time of George II., several of which have already appeared in the LIVING AGE, reprinted from Blackwood's Magazine, will be issued from this office, in book form, as soon as completed.

A HOUSE OF CARDS.
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PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY

LITTELL & GAY, BOSTON.

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FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year, nor where we have to pay commission for forwarding the money.

Price of the First Series, in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars.

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Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expense of the publishers.

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For 5 new subscribers ($40.), a sixth copy; or a set of HORNE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, unabridged, in 4 large volumes, cloth, price $10; or any 5 of the back volumes of the LIVING AGE, in numbers, price $10.

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