POPE AND HIS POETRY. 33 ascended a narrow flight of stairs, and lip and the bursting tears that could not entered a low dingy room, scrupulously be controlled. Her concluding words neat, yet the very air in it breathed of were not lost on Mrs. Langley; she repoverty. There was no fireplace in the called Clara's evident desire to avoid the miserable garret · had there been, it visit-she remembered the name as some would have been useless to the occupants, years back familiar in the mouth of her though it was now the depth of winter. child-the grief she now evinced proStretched upon a pallet, in one corner, ceeded, then, not from sensibility, but was Annie Morton. Traces of great remorse; and at these reflections, a bitbeauty still remained, despite the ravages ter feeling oppressed her. A glance at of want and disease; her clear blue eyes the fragile form before her determined shone with a more than earthly lustre, her not to hazard a painful and exhaustand a tinge of hectic heightened the ing scene by the discovery of her name; transparent pallor of her cheeks. Mrs. so, slipping her purse into Mrs. Morton's Langley was deeply moved. Clara, un- hand, without pausing to hear the grateable to control her feelings, burst into ful thanks of the astonished widow, she convulsive sobs. Beside the invalid was seized the arm of the bewildered Clara, seated a person evidently of superior and hastily led her away. birth and education, dressed in faded It was not until they had gained the widow's weeds. Their mournful history privacy of their own dwelling, that Mrs. was soon told-it was a tale of every Langley sought an explanation from her day." An imprudent marriage-a hus-daughter, who was too severely humbled band's sudden death- —a widow unprovided to endeavour to exculpate herself. "Oh! for-cold heartless friends-a prolonged Clara," said Mrs. Langley, "my birthand expensive sickness. At first, Annie day present cost a fellow-being's life." had gained a livelihood by means of an art And so it was. Not all the luxuries acquired in happier times as an accom- which Mrs. Langley procured--not the plishment-then sickness had come upon sisterly affection of the repentant Clara, her-repose and comfort were requisite, could longer retain the unfortunate An"And against her will," pursued the nie in the scene of her earthly tribulawidow, "I solicited assistance from a tion; though the knowledge that for her Miss Langley, a wealthy and attached beloved parent poverty and privation friend of her early school-days-no reply were no more, flung a heavenly serenity came-Annie would labour on, till weak- over her latest moments. ness completely disabled her; and now little hope remains." And, overcome, she turned aside to conceal the quivering 66 Upon Clara's character this painful event left an undying influence. ELLEN VON S POPE AND HIS POETRY. THE Earl of Carlisle in a lecture on the poetry of Pope, to the members of the Leeds Mechanics' Institution, illustrated the merits of that distinguished poet in a rather novel manner. After expatiating on his genius and powers of versification, the lecturer said:"When there has been a pleasant party of people, either in a convivial or intellectual view-I wish we might think it of our meeting this evening-[cheers]-we might say that it has been 1 The feast of reason and the flow of soul.' How often are we warned-I have some times even heard the warning addressed to Mechanics' Institutes, that 'A little learning is a dangerous thing.' How often reminded, 'An honest man's the noblest work of God.' [Cheers.] Or with nearly the same meaning, Who taught the useful science to be good.' There is a couplet which I ought to carry in my own recollection— 'What can ennoble sots or slaves or cowards? Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards.' [Laughter.] It is an apt illustration of the offices of she insists on a party of pleasure, or an expensive dress? You tell her, hospitality, "Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.' How familiar is the instruction, 'To look through Nature up to Nature's God.' As rules with reference to composition, The last and greatest art-the art to blot.' To snatch a grace beyond the reach of art;' And then as to the best mode of conveying the instruction, 'Men must be taught as if you taught them not.' There is the celebrated definition of wit, True wit is nature to advantage dressed; What oft was thought, bnt ne'er so well expressed.' Do you want to illustrate the importance of early education? You observe, 'Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.' Do you wish to characterise ambition somewhat favourably? You call it, The glorious fault of angels and of gods." Or describing a great conqueror, 'A mighty hunter and his prey was man.' Do you seek the safest rule for architecture or gardening? That every woman is at heart a rake.' [A laugh.] And then, if you wish to excuse your own submission, you plead— If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face, and you'll forget them all. [Cheers and laughter.] How often are we inclined to echo the truth, That fools rush in where angels fear to tread.' And this too, 'That gentle dullness often loves a joke.' Who has not felt this to be true? 'Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man, never is, but always to be blest.' When an orator or a Parliamentary candidate-in which last capacity I have often appeared before some of you[much cheering]-wishes to rail at absolute governments, he talks of 'The monstrous faith of many made for one.' Then there are two maxims, one in politics and one in religion, which have both been extremely found fault with, but the very amount of censure proves what alone the truth or justice of Pope's words, but I am now attempting to establish, not their great vogue and currency— For forms of government let fools contest; Whate'er is best administered is best: For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight;" His can't be wrong whose life is in the right." Review. The work first appeared in the United States in an expensive shape, but Mr. Bohn has introduced it into this country in a popular form. Not the least valuable part of the book is the Introduction, by Dr. Hall, which deals with ponderous topics in a very interesting style. Dr. Hall considers fairly and elaborately the different opinions on the origin of humanity, and at length adds his testimony to that of the many, who believe the black, the brunette, the coppery, and the white are the offspring of one mother-the Eve of Mosaic History. Several pages also of this able Intro. THE POETRY OF THE FIRESIDE. duction are directed to an explanation of the line of demarcation between reason and instinct, revealing yet more clearly the bridgeless chasm between the highest brute and the lowest man. "One of the most striking differences,' writes our author, "between man and all other animals consists in the relative proportions of the cranium and face. The organs which occupy the greater portion of the face are those of vision, smelling, and tasting, and the instruments for mastication and deglutition. 35 while the land of Confucius has long ranked as one of the great nations of the world. Mr. Pickering divides the human race into eleven classes, namely 2 white-the Arabian and the Abys sinian. 3 brown-the Mongolian, the Hottentot, and the Malay. 4 blackish brown-the Papuan, the Ne grillo, the Indian, and the Ethiopian. 2 black-The Australian and the Negro. The characteristics of these he clearly defines, and separately treats upon. Altogether the work is highiy interesting and No qua-instructive. In proportion as these are more developed, the size of the face, compared with that of the skull, is increased. druped approaches man in the magnitude and convolutions of the hemispheres of the brain; that is to say, of that part of this organ which is the powerful instrument of the intellectual operations." Speaking of the unfortunate negro race, he says, "There is nothing whatever in the organization of the brain of the negro which affords a presumption of inferior endowment, either intellectually or morally." This statement of Dr. Hall's at once destroys the stronghold of slavery, and convinces us, that the God who "made of one blood all nations of the earth," also intends all men to enjoy equal rights and liberties. In these days, too, when individuality and nationality are sacrificing themselves for the public good, and men no longer aim at the advancement of particular interests, but labour for the general good of humanity, a knowledge of the various races of man is indispensable. We believe, and our perusal of Mr. Pickering's book has done much to confirm our belief, that as from one parent all spring, so into one family all shall one day be admitted, when the confusion of Babel shall cease, and when one tongue composed, perhaps, of the sweet accents of all extinct languages, be spoken. Knowledge shall extend her empire wide as the waters of the sea, and the large sensual features distinguishing the barbaric face shall be subdued into refinement beneath the exalted forehead and In an interesting Table, showing the weight of the skulls of various nations, the negro's is stated to be about 1 lb. 12 oz.; and that of the Chinese 1 lb. 7 oz. Now, as the weight of the skull is great-soul-breathing eye of wisdom. One law est in the most intellectual,-the European's being about 3 lbs.,-it argues that the Chinese are of inferior capacity to the negro, and yet too many of us pronounce the latter as only fit for slaves, of love, one competition for excellence in virtue, all hallowed by humble dependence upon the Creator and Preserver of the world, shall bind in a bond of broherhood the children of men. and troops of household memories, like winged whispers from our childhood's home, gather round us, and speak of her love. The hush of evening steals upon us, and we hear her whisper with a dear voice, bidding us learn our infant prayer, and putting our hands together as we lisp "Our Father," and when, with a little weak voice, we uttered what she taught, she knelt beside our bed to pray for us:- "She, when the nightly couch was spread, where the lustre of love sheds a holier light upon the heart than all the memories of youth, beautiful and shadowy as they may be. Yes, there is one now sitting by the fireside, whose bosom, like a crystal well of beauty, gushes with a love which makes life, with all its fretting anxieties, a summer garden of joy, which, without the moonlight softness of its affection, would be a wilderness of thorns. "A gentle form is near me now; A small white hand is clasped in mine; I gaze upon her placid brow, And ask what joys can equal thine." And kneeling, pray for me." And how glad were our young hearts The dear old holidays come as of yore; then how simple our faith! how true Christmas, with its warmth of heart, its and trusting our love! We lived with greetings and fireside affection ;-the angels all day long, and closed our eyes merry laugh, the prattle of children, the at night to the music of elfin songs. smiling faces lighted up with the ruddy There were rosy companions greeting flames of crackling logs, each one beamthe sunshine laughed, and the sweeting with a lustre which speaks the satisbreath of heaven kissed us tenderly; then we could have lived among the trees and flowers, and have died, laughing, be us; side the forest brook. "Twas spring-time then, and rosy buds Their powers are not upspringing. And died with them my boyish hopes, Well, that is past; it has gone back into the dream-land of memory; its sunny visions of gladness, its fairy voices, and its filial love, have all faded, and we have now the heart-burnings of manhood's life, with sinful yesterdays hovering like spectres, to breathe into our ears the bitterness of reproach. But we have the fireside still; and, although its myriad remembrances are but the shadowy ghosts of gone time, there are new joys starting up, Ithuriellike, into the heaven of the present, for Time, though he carries cloud as well as sunshine, has ever some flowers clinging to his wing. We know a nobler love than we ever dreamt of in our childish years. Then we changed our friends as the chameleon with his colours, and every new game brought new companions; now, we have learnt to confide in one gentle heart, to seek there for solace when the spirit is chafed by the anger of the world. We have awakened, like the sleeper in the syren's cave, into a world faction of the heart. Around us Time still weaves the woof of enchantment; and, although departed years are mellowed into memory's twilight, they send up a voice of harmony to the present, which, like the mourning of a grass-grown tabret, leaves a warbling echo on the soul's ear, which whispers of a future. The present will be what we make it. The fireside may be worth more to us than all the poetry of the world, more dear than wealth, power, or trumpetsounding fame. It must be by purity of heart and trust in God, that the joys of home, its mutual affection and domestic peace, must be gathered together, and preserved like spirits of the household, to watch over us: we must plant our trees of life in the soil of moral worth, and they will soon become laden with Eden fruits, to cheer, nourish, and sustain us as we sink down into the valley of years. "We should count life by heart-throbs. He lives most who thinks most, feels the noblest, Acts the best." -Poetic Companion. ΦΩΣ LIKE an inundation of the Indus is the course of time. We look for the homes of our childhood, they are gone. The loves and animosities of youth, where are they? Swept away, like the camps that had been pitched in the sandy bed of the river.-Longfellow. ment. THE MIRTH MAKER. IN 1586 Philip the Second sent the young "I say Buz, when do dat comit rise Count de Carbill to Rome to congra- at?" "It rise in the 49 meridian of de tulate Sextus the Fifth on his advance- frigid zodiac, as laid down in the Comic Almanac." The Pope imprudently saidWell, where do it set, "Are there so few men in Spain, that Buz?" "Set, you black fool-it don't your king sends me one without a set no whar-where it gets tired of shinbeard?" "Sir," said the first Spaniard, ing it goes in its hole." "If his majesty possessed the least idea that you imagined that merit laid in a beard, he would doubtless have deputed a goat to you-not a gentleman." "Bless ine, Sambo," said a gentleman the other day to a black servant, "How in the name of wonder did you get so black?" 66 Why, look a here, massa, de reason am dis-de day dis child was born dare vos an eclipse." Ebony received a quarter for his explanation; and after grinning thanks, continued, "I tell you what it is massa, dis nigger may be black, but he aint green, nowhow." Tight boots and shoes are the most perfect inventions the genius of man ever devised as instruments of torture; but fashion wishes, and they are endured. The selfishness of mankind, generally, I love myself the best; And Sancho take the rest." 66 "Who lives in that house Patrick?" Mr. Ferguson, that's dead." "How long has he been dead?" If he lived to next Christmas he'd been dead a twelvemonth. "What did he die of?"I'll He died of a Thursday. A FRIGHTFUL CONTINGENCY. - A farmer took his wife to see the wonders of the microscope exhibiting in Kilmarnock, all of which seemed to please her well, till the ammalcula contained in a drop of water came to be shown off. She sat patiently, however, till the "water tigers" magnified to the size of twelve feet, appeared on the sheet, filing with usual ferocity. She then rose in great trepedation, and cried to her husband, "For God sake, come awa, John." "Sit still woman," said John, "and see the show." "See the show-gude keep us a'man, what wad come o' us if the awfu'-like brutes wad break out of the water?" "You want a flogging," said a father to his unruly son, "I know that dad, but try to get along without it," replied the youngster. MIND YOUR OWN AFFAIRS.-"I can't conceive, said one nobleman to another, "How it is you manage; I am convinced that you are not of a temper to spend more than your income; and yet your estate is less than mine. I could not afford to live at the rate you do." My lord," said the other, I have a situation!" "You amaze me, I never heard of it till now; pray, what is it?" I am my own steward." 66 66 PROFESSIONAL COURTESY.-Which are the hyenas, and which are the monkeys?" said a child to the showman, "Vichever you please, my dear; you've paid the admission, and you have a right to choose." "Do you drink hale in America? "I wonder," said a woman of humour, asked a cockney. "No, we drink thunder" why my husband and I quarrel so and lightning," replied the Yankee. often, for we agree uniformly on one great point; he wished to be master, and so do I." "Do you snore in your sleep, marm?" "I don't know, I never lay awake long enough to find out." Sheridan gave the following humourous definition, 'Irishman, a machine for converting potatoes into human nrture." The "Popes Bull" has made such a stir and chatter in and out country, that he will think he has driven him into a "china shop." |