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Here, scholastic creeds above,
Is Religion taught by Love ;
Here, in temples not of stone,
Ministers for love alone,
Shame silence with adoring sound,
And make affliction hallow'd ground.

From her dungeon-gloom severe,
Conscience is uplifted here,
And whilst her degenerate eyes
Dread th' accusatory skies,
Charity is wing'd to ope
Paths sublime to Faith and Hope.

Tho' not Learning's garb ye wear
In Professor's easy chair,
Though ye mend the human breed,
Without mitres for your meed,
Heaven thus ratifies

Teachers of each “Ragged School."
April, 1846.

your rule,

D.

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THE EAST WIND AT HARWICH.

KEEN blew the wind over the waves, washing them upon

the breakwater at Harwich. Seldom had Eolus so. well worked at his bellows. On the jetty there was no anxious crowd awaiting the arrival of the steamers from Ipswich or from London. The Beacon-hill was deserted. On the esplanade no gay company. paraded. A few weather-beaten seamen and myself formed the whole humanity of the scene.

“ It is very cold, ,” said I, addressing a Preventive Service man, who, in company with an ordinary seaman of the port, was leaning against the lesser lighthouse--each chewing a quid of tobacco, and ever and anon squirting its poisonous juice from the mouth, in a manner at once peculiarly dexterous and nonchalant. “ It is very cold,” said I.

Pretty stiff breeze, sir,” replied the Preventive Service man. What quarter does it blow from ?”

Full east,” said the mariner.
“ Just the right quarter for Harwich,"interposed the Preventive.

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“ The right quarter for IIarwich!” I exclaimed; "why, situated as Harwich is, just out of the water, with sea and river at both ends of each street, it is cold enough always, without the cast wind to make it colder. And this esplanaule, and the Beacon-hill yonder, have enough wind from the sea-breeze, without these cutting blasts, which almost take one off his legs, but which you say blow from the right quarter.”

Ay, ay, sir; you have kept a clear log as far as you have sailed; but there is something else in the wind, which you have not scored.” " What's that?" inquired I.

Why, sir, where the wind goes the ship goes.' " What then?said my ignorance.

Why, sir, when the wind 's east, it's all up at Harwich. It drives the craft into port."

The light on the cast wind being in the right quarter for Harwich, here dawned upon my previously benighted understanding. I nevertheless continued the conversation.

“ The craft coming into port,” said I, “is an advantage to Harwich, and the cast wind is therefore a blessing which drives them in."

Ay, ay, sir-that's it, sir-Great benefit to trade ! All up at Harwich when there 's a good stifl' east wind!”

“But there may be a shipwreck,” said I, with the solemn look of a landsman.

May be, sir ; can't be helped. All the better for Harwich." “But you are not wreckers ?”

“No, bless you ; but there 's always something picked out of such jobs.”'

Oh! thought I, what a condition is this life of ours; even shipwrecks are at a premium in some places! As society is now divisively constructed, the distresses anıl losses of some are ever, if not the joy, yet certainly the gain of others. I knew before that an epidemic was often à carriage to a doctor. I knew before that the conflagration of a street was a good fire to carpenters, bricklayers, and so forth. I knew before that a tempest of litigation was a south breeze to a barrister. I knew before that a murderous war was a field of laurels to a general.

oh unfortunate, but yet needed knowledge! I know that an east wind is in the right quarter for Harwich, as it delays voyages, creates shipwrecks, and therefore increases trade in that Christian little seaport.

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But now,

As I thought thus, the east wind blew more cuttingly than ever. The god of the winds wound his trumpet of defiance, blast after blast. I buttoned up my blouze, strapped my cap more tightly down, and bidding farewell to the seaman, left the esplanade for the town, there to note another item in my catalogue of charges against the present state of society.

GOODWYN BARMBY,

EDMUND BURKE. NOTES WRITTEN IN THE MARGIN OF LORD BROUGHAM'S CHARACTER OF BURKE

IN HIS “STATESMEN OF THE REIGN OF GEORGE III."

LORD BROUGHAM has brought out again before us many evanescent characters, just as Bekker and Angelo Mai recovered the palimpsests, with a strong infusion of gall. Let us hope that there may be this difference,--that they never may be copied.

No history of England will exhibit to posterity so clear and impartial a view of the statesmen who conducted her affairs for a quarter of a century, as Collingwood's and Nelson's Correspondence and The Duke of Wellington's Orders and Despatches. These volumes display more evidences of incapacity, in an uninterrupted succession of Ministers, than are afforded by the aggregate of those who contributed to the decline and fall of the Roman and Byzantine empires. What a glory is it to our nation to have stood against such precipitancy, and to have united, as never were united before, such firmness and such enterprise !

Perhaps here I ought to beg pardon of the learned Lord ; for, although my contempt of our statesmen, on both sides, is quite equal to his own, I cannot but exult at all the triumphs of our countrymen. I will now turn over those pages of his book which contain his notice of Edmund Burke :

“How much soever men may differ as to the soundness of Mr. Burke's doctrines, or the purity of his public conduct, there can be no hesitation in according to him a station among the most extraordinary persons that have ever appeared : nor is there now any diversity of opinion as to the place which it is fit to assign him."

It is painful to find those words which we recollect in our favourite authors, our guides in youth and our companions'in manhood, thus shorn of their character and twisted into new significations. To accord, for grant or comcede, is amongst the worst frippery our men-milliners of the press have recently smuggled over from France.

“ He could either bring his masses of information to bear directly upon the subjects to which they severally belonged or he could avail himself of them generally to strengthen his faculties and enlarge his views—or he could turn any portion of them to account for the purpose of illustrating his theme, or enriching his diction.”

By the insertion of the words “ to account for,” he creates an ambiguity. We might doubt whether account is a verb or a substantive. The uncertainty would have been avoided by the omission of these words so unnecessary, and by writing “ He could turn any portion of them to the purpose,

&c. This may seem a trivial objection ; but no incorrectness of style should pass without remark.

“ All his works, indeed, even his controversial, are so informed with general reflection, so variegated with speculative discussion, that they wear the air of the Lyceum as well as the Academy."

To wear an air, sounds strangely: and he should have taken care to insert of before the Academy ; else we might understand that he wore the air of the Lyceum as the Academy wore it.

“But in all other styles, passages without end occur of the highest order --- epigram-pathos --- metaphor in profusion, chequered with more didactic and sober diction."

Here epigram is introduced as the first of passages without end of the highest order: “ epigram, pathos," &c. Certainly there are

in Burke passages without end. But epigram is somewhat low in order, and Burke happily did not excel in it. Of “pathos” he had none.

His florid and childish description of Marie Antoinette is perhaps the most generally admired, but certainly the very worst, in all his multifarious writings. The remarks upon it by Paine are beyond what you would imagine to be within his scope. Scarcely will you find in the English language more beautiful or more just expressions. In many occasions he reasons with closer logic than his oratorical opponent, but here he far excels him in his own regions of imagination. It seems to me so beautiful, that I will quote the passage:- “ Not one glance of compassion, not one commiserating reflection, that I can find throughout his book, has he bestowed on those who lingered out the most wretched of

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lives, a life without hope, in the most miserable of prisons. It is painful to behold a man employing his talents to corrupt himself. Nature has been kinder to Mr. Burke than he is to her. He is not affected by the reality of distress touching his heart, but by the showy resemblance of it striking his imagination. He pities the plumage, but forgets the dying bird. Accustomed to kiss the aristocratical hand that hath purloined him from himself, he degenerates into a composition of art, and the genuine soul of nature forsakes him. His hero or his heroine must be a tragedyvictim expiring in show, and not the real prisoner of misery, sliding into death in the silence of a dungeon.”

Since the writing of these words, I come unexpectedly to the quotation from Burke, to which they refer :" And surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in, glittering like the morning star, full of life, and splendour, and joy.

The sentence is truly harmonious, and the images seem to be snatched hastily from the fragments of an enchanted palace. But let us come up close. This orb means the real globe we live

The horizon is not the horizon of this orb ; and the elevated sphere has nothing to do with it. If the Queen of France touched the orb at all, she could not be just above the horizon; and in neither case would she begin to move in the elevated “sphere.' move in a SPHERE is the peculiar privilege of gold and silver fish; and is, translatively, the most absurd of all those absurd expressions to which illiterate and unreflecting fashion has given currency.

The language of Burke, sometimes simple and often vigorous, is generally too ready to run into sterile luxuriance. We find him out of breath by labouring to put on his foot the tarnished shoe of a prostitute, the upper part covered with spangles and the lower with filth. He was not, as Lord Brougham represents him, versed in every department of literature and science, but he made the most of the little he had acquired, and was wiser than the majority of the authors he had read.

“ He unfolds his facts in a narrative so easy, and yet so correct, that you plainly perceive he wanted only the dismissal of other pursuits to have rivalled Livy or Hume."

The stateliest and most majestic of historians, worthy to describe the rise and elevation of Rome, just as Gibbon its decline and fall, is here dragged from the Capitol to join the pedestrianism

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