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have possessed the peculiar features of the age in which they flourished. Without reward (that reward which the generous hearts of the people know only how to give,) the pen was seldom plied or the leading staff upreared.
It is the nature and characteristic of mankind in common with the inferior genera of creation, to revere the higher instinct or the master-mind of their species. Every covey of birds has its leader meach tribe its chief. But seldom has it been found that the members of one speeies evince towards the great of another, either sympathy or affection; too frequently also do the inhabitants of one locality despise and contemn the genius of their neighbours, their discernment being blinded by a clinging prejudice to their fatherland. As an exception, however, a kingdom can be found that estimates ability (to whatever goal it tend) at its full price, even should it originate on an alien strand. The welcome which has been given to one, a foreigner and an Outlaw, could never have been excelled, had it sprung from the lips of his emancipated brethren. The name of Kossuth moved as with one accord the mighty pulse of the English nation, even before the tidings of his advent had reached its shores. It had been reported that a brave man would come-a man who had endured in his feeble body troubles of a gigantic nature, and obtained repeated conquests in the very teeth of innumerable hosts—enduring famine and cold-anguish, bodily and mental,—and for what? For the golden substance of that simple word “Freedom.” This tale had reverberated from the ears of the English people to their hearts, having descended in a burning stream to their core, from thence it leapt in most “large utterance, calling upon their rulers to lash the hounds of Austria and Russia from their bleeding prey. Saxon in spirit as English people are, and as such averse to popular demonstrations, and not easily led away by the impulse of the moment, still on this occasion has a power of sympathy roused them to an enthusiasm quite alien to their nature; but, it were strange indeed if so generous a feeling had run through the whole range of society unchecked--an exception offers itself to this rule. The policy-clad ministers, the hangers on the frivolity of the court, the withered and emaciated descendants of the strong-handed Norman—the purse-proud stockbroker, the “Times,” the manufacturer of the provincial town, and the paid critic of the daily papers, these men have not extended the palm of friendship towards him. It seems the glitter of Austrian gold has dazzled their weak vision, which having been placed in the balance alas! has outweighed the struggling spark
of Brotherood from out their breasts. Can it be that they have forgotten the circumstances of their English birth and English education? Can the accents in which their fathers imparted to them the great lesson of Freedom, have entirely departed? Can the echo of the blows which were stricken by them in the cause, have totally died away? We know not! But still there is one thread of light in this tissue of gloom, side by side with Kossuth, hand in hand with him, upon the platform, and amid the crowded thoroughfare, throwing away the onerous cloak of “caste," there has stood a young patrician, whose name shall hereafter, conjointly be written high in every future state of Europe, to which the spirit of Freedom shall not be more unknown than the name. Above the common mass of the people, he has yet joined heart to heart with them. Truly, in the burning thanks of that people, he has his reward, and as the representative of the English nation, he may add—
“We yield to none in earnest love
Of Freedom's cause sublime.” And his whole proceeding may
Show the world who doubts the fact,
That of Freedom is not born,
Utter recklessness and scorn;
To return one injury for another is to revenge like man ; whereas to revenge like God is to love our enemies. It is a great happiness not to be able to hurt one's neighbour, nor to have the power and parts to do mischief. The ingenuity of (what we call) men of the world, consists in knowing how to injure others, and revenge ourselves when injured. Whereas, on the contrary, not to return evil for evil is the true honour and vital principle of the gospel. —Leon.
The Factory Girl's Vearning.
Out of the factory window,
Out of the death dusty place,
Stretcheth a girl's weary face;
Piercing the brick-forest maze,
Darteth a work-clouded gaze.
Far from the hot air behind,
Batheth the work-clotted mind.
Children are guiding the boat;
Schoolmates are watching the float;
Strong hands are clasped in fair,
Would that the gazer were there!
Mowers are resting their steel ;
Bearing the love-seasoned meal.
Gazing lean't still the work-weary,
Till she half seeméd away
With the young children in play,
Sharing the rude country food;
Out of the platters of wood.
In the piled heaps that she saw;
Hard was her pillow of straw.
Black as the plume of a hero,
Smoke from the factory leapt,
Round the tall chimneys it crept;
Like a fair face with a mask ;
J. J. B.
A Dirge. Tread the ground tenderly!
Breathless, beware! Hark the bell dolefully
Sounds through the air ! The spirit is far away,
Angels among ! Singing some holy lay,
Midst the glad throng. Toll the bell mournfully!
Toll sad and slow! In the grave carefully,
Down let him go.
Pure was his soul,
Hang o'er his tomb;
Prey for the gloom !
And flowrets around;
Placed in the ground !
Pure was his soul,
YE KNYGHT OF YE EMERALDE PLUME, WHO HADE
BEENE TO YE WARS AND RETURNYING HOME, HEREYN IS DESCRYBED ALL THAT BEFELLE HYM.
A Medyaballe Laye, SUITEDDE TO YE EXYSTINGE STATE OF SOCYETIE AS TOUCHYNGE
Downe ye corridore wyde, I will trudge by your syde,
While I’m Kugghte of qe Emeralde Plume.