Combine, combine! And let your strength be seen;

Club up your pence; though poor, oh, be not mean !" ́
Exclaim the leaders of the toiling host.

Their pence reach pounds, their pounds to thousands swell,
They feel their power, alas, too soon they boast,

They squabble; where's their cash? oh, none can tell !
"Strike, strike !" your levies pay, and soon shall quail

The tyrants whom you hate." Alas, they fail!

Then burning mills, and damaged engines show
A servile war; and troops march to and fro,
To awe the rabble rout. Muzzled again,

They work half-starved, or starved they die in pain.

Ye poor depress'd! on principle depend:
All good shall triumph, evil have an end.
Justice, ox-footed, comes with laggard pace;
Though slow, 'tis sure, and yet will win the race,
"Twixt it and ill-got gainings. Heaven ordains
A retributive law, and metes out pains,
Here or hereafter, to the tyrant few
Proportioned to the evils which they do ;
Union and wealth, that few too surely arm
To crush the violence of the murm'ring swarm:
Their gold divides ye, and their oneness smites
Ye in detail, and robs you of your rights.
Rights gained by blood, by blood must be secur'd,
And they who use, must perish by the sword.
Right principles will live, tho' tyrants frown;
When most oppress'd they ever most have grown.
Conscience, your friend, in foemen's bosoms stirs,
And says, that he who smites you deeply errs.
While Int'rest cries, "I over-reach myself,
I snatch a shadow, and I lose the pelf;
I must retract, for I have gone too far;

Who starve the masses their own fortunes mar;"
Pity, meek-eyed, and kind compassion move,
And conquer hearts by pure anthropic love.

The Social Curse; or, Intemperance. A Rhyme; and other Pieces. By ALEXANDER MACANSH. (London: W. S. Orr, Amen Corner.) THIS Volume is also the production of a working man, a native of Dunfermline. A friend informs me that his body is deformed, and that he walks with the greatest difficulty; but this volume proves that his mind possesses no ordinary vigour. The longer poem abounds with striking passages of origi– nality, evinces enlarged reading, and displays much good taste; but I select the following from the shorter pieces, on account of the congeniality of its subject to the purposes of the "Journal.”

SHALL MAN BE FREE?

The Bee that hums from bud to bud,
Through bower and broomy solitude,-
The minnow leaping from the flood,
The whispering wind and rustling wood,
Are fetterless and free.
The cloud swims onward free and high,
The stars gleam from no stanchell'd sky,-
The foam-capt billows surging by,
Still thunder forth the banner-cry,

Of-We are free, are free.

Oh, no! a thread has shackeled
The Giant in deep slumber laid :
The sleep is slept, the torpor fled;
He wakes, he walks in glory dread,
And tyrannies, in his earthquake-tread,

Are crumbling one by one.

And shall our race-Oh! nobler far
Than wind, than wave, or cloud-wove car,-
Whose searching spirit can unbar,

The mysteries of each mighty star,
Alone dree slavery's pains?
Alone! while things of meaner birth
Are dancing in unfettered mirth--
Huge Thraldom's frame-corroding girth-
The Sovereigns of the chainless earth,

Themselves alone in chains ?
And glorious years are dawning now,
When nations shall no longer glow,
With mutual hate, nor meanly bow,
Nor lift the prayer to aught below

The Everlasting Throne.

NOTES OF TRAVEL AND TALK.

I Do not choose to put myself in danger of being deemed dull and tedious, -and, therefore, seeing that so many weeks have passed over since I made some of my visits,-I will say no more, now, than that I enjoyed the society of working-men in Newcastle-on-Tyne very greatly, and felt proud of the intelligence of my own order while surrounded by them. In addition to some of the villages, I had the pleasure this time of extending my visit to ancient Alnwick-the seat of the old Percies. The castle and antiquities, of course, interested me; and still more the perception that a few young men (two of whom accompanied me to Hulne Abbey, on the third day,) are making praiseworthy efforts for Progress here. In Carlisle, I had two good audiences, and two happy nights among old friends. At Stockton-on-Tees and Middlesbro' (which I had not seen before) I met signs of undeniable advancement. In old York, I had, again, two days of enjoyment, amid the rich associations of the superb cathedral and other antiquities; and was again surrounded by old friends whose kind and happy voices seem even yet to ring in my ears.

In Leeds, I spent some days under the hospitable roof of a friend who has shewn me attentions so numerous and valuable, that I can only say I know not how to thank him for them. On the Sunday evening (July 7,) my audience filled the room in the Bazaar, Briggate; but the company was small on the next evening. I felt pleasure, however, in talking to them; and also to a little society of Young Men-a 'Mutual Improvement Society' at Holbeck, on the following evening. While in this neighbourhood, I had the gratification of passing two afternoons with my friend Joseph Barker, and strove to dissuade him from going to America -but in vain. I can only say, that I deeply regret his resolution to leave England. I cannot refrain from saying publicly what I have already said to him in private-that I think he is about to do wrong: his real work lies here-not across the Atlantic.

I must hasten on by merely observing that I talked at Bradford, Keighley, Wakefield, Huddersfield, Doncaster, and Rotherham, each for the first time and hope to get better acquainted with friends in those localities, in the course of another year. Neither let me forget Heckmondwike—where, I must openly declare, I saw richer signs of Progress than in some twenty large towns that I could name. Oh that the spirit of the Yorkshiremen of that district were shared by not only the whole county, but by all the workingmen of England! At Sheffield, I passed five days at the house of a new friend, but one whom I hope never to lose, and whom I wish I had known before-Mr. Isaac Ironside. He introduced me to other friends whom I also value: I went with them to their monthly tea-meeting at the Social Farm, at Attercliffe, and accompanied them to view the Parish Farm, six miles out of Sheffield but 'thereby hangs a tale' too important to pass by; and as the Printer looks cross and says 'I have enough!' I must defer the completion of these trifling Notes' (though against my will) till next unmber.

THOMAS COOPER.

KNOWLEDGE INDISPENSABLE TO RIGHT ACTION.-It appears that knowledge, reason, judgment, are absolutely required to enable us to discover what sentiments, dispositions, or conduct are deserving of applause or disgrace. Mental culture, therefore, becomes necessary, that we may praise or blame according to the dictates of a sound understanding. We must be informed of what is right or wrong by an application to some standard, and we must be disposed to love the one and hate the other, before these feelings can be in salutary exercise.

SENSIBILITY.-We are, as it were, plunged into the universe, trembling alive all over, and rendered capable of receiving impressions, pleasant and unpleasant, from every object that addresses our senses; from every thing we perceive, and from every thing of which we can form an idea. Nothing in this vast universe can, at all seasons be totally indifferent to every person in it; nothing so inert as to be incapable of exerting some influence in one connexion or other, and of calling forth a corresponding passion or affection.

SOURCES OF RATIONAL CONVICTION.-The term self-evident, which is now so generally admitted, without hesitation and without excuse, as being itself an axiom, is manifestly an encroachment upon that kind of courtesy which permits words to pass current that are not perfectly accurate, if they be sufficiently expressive of a popular meaning. Self-evident is an emphatic substitute for immediately perceivable, or what may be received without deliberation : correspondent with the familiar phrase, "that speaks for itself," which cannot admit of a literal interpretation.

HABIT.-Frequent repetitions in every thing introduce HABIT; and habit in its effects is assimilated to instinct. Fortunately it is common to every thing we practise, without exception. Its incalculable advantages are equally the property of the unlearned and the learned, of the mere peasant and the accomplished scholar. Habit is, as it were,. instantaneous in its operations; but the introduction of habit is frequently slow and difficult. Facilities are the result of much practice, and may have been acquired by much application and Jabour; although, after perfection is attained, we may forget the slow stages of gradual improvement, and censure those who are not so expert as ourselves.

ON A MORAL SENSE.-It is observable that the advocates for a moral sense, confine their ideas entirely to moral principles and conduct, imagining that moral agency is thus honoured with a peculiar faculty correspondent to its superior importance; but the arguments by which they support the tenet, are equally applicable to other mental sensations, or as it were percussions of sentiment, as well as those which are strictly moral; and these are extremely numerous. A sense of honour, the blush of shame, are as quick and vigorous as any which arise from moral causes. It may also be urged, that if the sudden effect produced upon a percipient, in moral subjects, be an evidence of a distinct mental sense, why may we not suspect that there may be an immoral sense, for it frequently happens, under the impetuosity of the passion, that sentiments and sensations instantaneously arise, not without consulting, but contrary to the dictates of reason.

NO INNATE PRINCIPLES OF RIGHT AND WRONG.-The ideas of right and wrong in human conduct, are never observable in a young child. How many little acts of an injurious nature would he commit if not restrained, without knowing that they were injurious. He seizes every thing within his reach, without any sensations relative to justice or injustice. The humoured child always thinks that he has a right to every thing that he desires, and resents a refusal as an injustice and cruelty. The little tyrant behaves, in his small circle, like great tyrants in the larger spheres, as if the whole creation were at their disposal, or formed for their sole gratification,

THE MOUNTAIN GLEN.

Away to the hills, where the red heather blooms,
And fair summer flowers shed richest perfumes;
Where the sweet voice of Nature is everywhere heard,—
In the hum of the bee,-in the song of the bird,
No pale slaves of Mammon are there to be found;
No tread of the tyrant; 'tis all hallowed ground:
Such evils are all far removed from the ken,
Of fairies that dwell in the lone Mountain Glen!

Away to the scenes where glad Nature alone
'Midst verdure and flowers has erected her throne;
Leave the smoke of the city-its turmoil and din,
Where gold-seeking vampires are struggling to win
From the sweat of the toilers more power and wealth;

While the millions are robbed of their food and their health:

Such selfish pursuits are unknown to the men

Who seek the calm shades of the wild Mountain Glen!

The time is swift coming when misery shall cease,
And famine no longer death's victims increase;
When all-potent knowledge shall rise in her strength,
Blasting tyranny's minions! The despot, at length,
Will be forced to surrender the blood-shedding sword;
And Earth's children live happy in peace and accord.
At each sabbath-dawn, will the artisan then

Seek vigour and health in the far Mountain Glen.

In the yet distant Future even now we descry

Scenes which liven the heart, and which brighten the eye;-
Happy children sport blythely on meadow and green;

And prison and workhouse no longer is seen;
Superstition's dark sway is entombed in the Past,
And the voice of the tyrant unheard on the blast,
Which startles the fox in his lone woody den,

And bows the tall trees in the wild Mountain Glen!

At dawn of the morning, the lark's early song
Glads the heart of the hind as he hastens along;
Over mountain and valley, 'neath heaven's clear blue,
The violet and primrose lie smothered in dew:
When at close of the day, the sun sinks in the west,
And the happy wife rests on her fond husband's breast,
The heart of the rustic is fluttering then,

As he seeks his true love in his own Mountain Glen!

Those days of the Future! ah, would they were here!
When the plough shall take place of the sword and the spear;
When war shall be banished this fair world of ours,

And Man's earthly path be through sunshine and .flowers:
No more will Earth's son wage war with his brother,

And the welfare of one be the curse of another;
But Kindness and Love will spring up amongst men,
As the flow'rets peep forth in the sweet Mountain Glen!

ALEXANDER BELL.

Religion. It fares with religion as with the shuttlecock, which is stricken from one to another, and rests with none. The rich apprehend it to have been designed for the poor; and the poor, in their turn, think it chiefly for the rich. An old acquaintance of mine, who omitted no opportunity of doing good, discoursed with the barber who shaved him, on his manner of spending the Sabbath, which was not quite as it should be, and the necessity of his having more religion than he seemed at present possessed of. The barber, proceeding in his work of lathering, replied, "that he had tolerably well for a barber; as, in his opinion, one-third of the religion necessary to save a gentleman would do to save a barber."-Bishop Horne.

CRITICAL EXEGESIS OF GOSPEL HISTORY,

ON THE BASIS OF STRAUSS's 'LEBEN JESU.'

A SERIES OF EIGHT DISCOURSES; DELIVERED AT THE LITERARY INSTITUTION, JOHN STREET, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD, AND AT THE HALL OF SCIENCE, CITY ROAD, ON SUNDAY EVENINGS, DURING THE WINTERS OF 1848-9, AND 1849-50.

BY THOMAS COOPER,

Author of "The Purgatory of Suicides."

VII.-THE RESURRECTION AND ASCENSION.
(Continued from last number.)

LET us proceed to consider the accounts of the New Testament writers respecting the appearances of the risen Jesus beyond the immediate locality of his sepulchre. A great difficulty presents itself here. What locality did Jesus design to be the chief theatre of his appearances after the resurrection?

Matthew and Mark make Jesus, before his death, say-"After I am risen again I will go before you into Galilee;" and they also make the angels give the same assurance to the women on the morning of the resurrection, with the addition-"there shall ye see him.' Matthew, besides, makes Jesus commission the women to say to the disciples-"that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see me."

:

Well is the journey into Galilee performed by the risen Christ? Yes; according to Matthew-who knows of no other appearance to the disciples. But Mark has no record whatever of the fulfilment of his own words: he relates no appearance of the risen Jesus in Galilee; but mentions others. The other two evangelists afford singular contrasts, on this point to Matthew and Mark. I quote Strauss:

"John knows nothing of a direction to the disciples to go into Galilee, and makes Jesus show himself to the disciples on the evening of the day of resurrection, and again eight days after, in Jerusalem: the concluding chapter, however, which forms an appendix to his gospel, describes an appearance by the sea of Galilee. In Luke, on the other hand, not only is there no trace of an appearance in Galilee,-(Jerusalem with its environs being made the sole theatre of the appearances of Christ which this gospel relates,)—but there is also put into the mouth of Jesus when, on the evening after the resurrection, he appears to the assembled disciples in Jerusalem, the injunction: tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem (in the Acts, ch. 1., v. 4, more definitely expressed by the negative, that they should not depart from Jerusalem) until ye be endued with power from on high (Luke, 24 ch, 49 v.) Here two questions inevitably arise: 1st. How can Jesus have directed the disciples to journey into Galilee, and yet at the same time have commanded them to remain in Jerusalem until Pentecost? and, 2ndly, How could he refer them to a promised appearance in Galilee, when he had the intention of showing himself to them that very day in and near Jerusalem?"

Harmonists have endeavoured to get over this difficulty; but the great critic Michaelis, confesses himself obliged to wonder how-if Luke does not mean by that prohibition of Jesus to exclude the journey into Galilee, why is it that he alludes to this by no single word? and in like manner, if Matthew knew that his direction to go into Galilee was consistent with the command to remain in the metropolis, why has he omitted the latter, together with the appearances in Jerusalem? An unprejudiced mind must perceive, at once, that the diverging accounts are based on diverging ideas as to the locality on which the risen Jesus appeared. But how could this be, if there were the slightest basis of fact in the accounts themselves ?