Long ere that home be gained, be sure he meets
Brothers or sisters of the trade. He turns

Yon corner-up the darkling court he glides-
And there, with one or more, he chuckling counts
The earnings of the day; and, ere he bears
Those earnings home, takes a large discount off
For his own privy gains. From these, forthwith,
He takes his dram, or plays his game, and then
Returns to his expectant home. And woe
To him if he returns with smaller gains
Than his fierce parents from his arts demand!
Sharp is the scourge, and strong the arm, and hard
The heart that guides it; but he bears it all
In hate and fell obduracy; and blows

Move him no more than summer winds the roots
Of the stone-pine on thine Atlantic heights,
Lordly Mount Edgcumbe! or than tempests shake
Thy granite base, grey Dewerstone! Love is dead
In his young bosom-love and generous shame,
Yea, all but coarse and abject selfishness,
And the vile shrewdness, early train'd to mark
The weak points of deceived humanity;

These, like rank nettles, spread a poisonous life
O'er the untimely ruin."

Next we have a town Sabbath scene:

"Hark! the sound

Of breeze-borne bells. It is the Day of Prayer.

Now should the young be gather'd in their flocks,
Each one beneath his pastor. Is it so?

Alas, for poor society's nipp'd buds,

That never bear a flower!"

With painful graphic power, Mr. Johns portrays the Sabbath orgies of the abandoned poor. His heart bleeds for the children trained by every means

to

And hope forlorn."

66

farewell'd innocence

And then his oppressed heart seeks for relief by uttering the following terrible dirge:

"Ah, happier far their lot,

Whom in their early innocence, the effects

Of harden'd vice and sotted ignorance

Have gather'd, though through agony, to rest!

Sights have I seen, and sounds have heard, which still

Will haunt with that which we cannot forget,

Yet hatefully remember, to the last ;

Sights of emaciated innocence,

And sounds of infant misery that jarr'd

To mine, a stranger's, heart, though mark'd by those
Who own'd the little sufferers, with a cold

Revolting apathy, that shew'd how hard

Is Nature's channel when her springs are dry.
"Tis the brook gives the gem-look to the stones
That pave its bed; and 'tis the gushing flow
Of the healthy natural feelings that creates
The Beautiful in things, that lose, that lost,
Their principle of beauty. Even the name
Of holy motherhood itself (and, oh,

What name on earth is sweeter?) strikes with pain,
When you connect it with that harden'd one,
Giving the lank breast to yon wasted babe,-
Yon pining, staring, moaning skeleton,-

With death in all except its eye, and there

A preternatural glare of ghastly life.

Oh, call not her a mother! keep the name
For those who do no murder. In her veins
The poison runs upon whose work you gaze,
And every day will the poor infant waste
And wear away, till death shall end its woes;
And she, who bore it, shall perhaps extort
An eleemosynary coffin, then

Gaze after it a moment as it parts,

And gulp a pang of vain compunction down
With a last funeral dram. The mourner suits
The mother well."

"Time was when I beheld an infant's corpse
With a grieved eye; and when, if haply call'd
To minister the lowly rites which laid

The early dust upon the poor man's child,

I sadden'd as I thought of the young life

Thus mown at dewy morning. These days WERE :—

I now more oft feel gratitude than grief

When I behold the hard-used innocent

Laid where no ill is done or suffer'd more."

Much as we have already quoted, we cannot resist transferring to our page the closing incident in this introductory Poem, designed to awaken a wise and just compassion for the pitiable race of juvenile criminals.

"Each door,

Each casement, and full many a place, before
Unnoticed, unsuspected, is agape

With clustering gazers-old, mature and young-
Grinning full ghastly smiles; while here and there,
Some gentler face may wear a look of pain,

Or let the wan sinile die in shades away.

Whence come they? And what gaze they on? Amidst
Yon shouting ring, a tall policeman leads

A girl of not ten summers-Whither? Well

They know who look upon them. "Tis her seventh
Acquaintance with the Bridewell, and its court
Rings with her mocking laughter as its doors
Once more receive her. How came this to be-
The snake untimely Eden'd in the child?
She early lost her father, if a loss

It might be call'd when the fierce drunkard died,
Who cursed her in that name. A mother's care
She only knew for evil; for she taught
Her child betimes to rob the neighbours round
Of every thing her little hands could grasp,
And her poor rags conceal. The teacher drank
The earnings of the pupil, and then sent
Her forth to steal again; and when (a thing
Not rare in this their course) the hand of law
Fell on the childish culprit, the sole grief

Of the vile parent was, that one sure source

Of gain for her bad pleasures was awhile

Damm'd up and dried. Stranger, who turn'st this page,
Perhaps thou had'st good parents, who betimes

Taught thee to love all good, to fear all ill,

To walk with God in prayer, to love the place

Where his praise waiteth, to endear thine home

By daily acts of duty and of love,

To enjoy the happy present, and to think

Life the watch'd path, and death the gate to Heaven.
Were not such parents thine? If so, then think

Of those who, silent on all this, yet teach

Their children something, and discharge their part

By training them to evil.”

The extracts we have given will, we think, justify our expectation of a noble Poem, if Mr. Johns is encouraged and strengthened to proceed with his work. Some of the descriptions of town scenes remind us of the minute painting and home-touches of Crabbe, while the whole is characterized by a lofty and noble moral end. Believing, as we do, that the poetry of our Bard will aid the holy cause of the City Missionary and lead to new efforts of philanthropy, we have taken this first opportunity of entreating our readers

"to lend a listening ear,

And a touch'd heart, to things thus long untold

In Christian verse."

Memoir of Mrs. Jane Mawson, of Newcastle-on-Tyne, compiled from her Diary and Correspondence, shewing the Progressive Influence of Truth upon the Mind of a sincere Inquirer. Carefully compiled and edited by an intimate Friend, with occasional Observations by the Author of " Jewish Sacrifices," &c., and Dr. Frederic R. Lees. Pp. 245. London-Chapman, Brothers. 1846.

THIS little effort of biography is in a style new to Unitarian readers. It is composed, for the most part, after the fashion of the lives that abound in orthodox Tract Societies, with this difference-that here we have a portrait of a mind advancing steadily towards an intelligent and benign theology, while the heart retains all that is pure and fervent in early religious impressions. The story is not very full of incidents, but it is unaffectedly and pleasingly told. Jane Cameron was born at Sunderland in 1814-was brought up by her mother amongst the Wesleyan Methodists. Her father she lost in her infancy. She devoted herself from her youth to a religious life, and zealously pursued the prescribed Methodist discipline. Her taste and love of scenery preserved her from fanaticism. In Mr. Mawson she found a suitable partner, with whom she passed nearly six happy years. As a mother, her religious character deepened. In the year 1840, she and her husband removed from Sunderland to Newcastle. This circumstance hastened a change, which had been for some time previous going on, in respect to her theological opinions, and soon she was led entirely away from the religious associates of her youth. The story is best told in her own words, extracted from her Diary :

"After much prayer and deliberation, my beloved husband and self have united ourselves, we fully believe according to the will of God, to the church under the care of Mr. Barker; some of our reasons for taking this step are the following:--We have received more spiritual benefit from his labours than from any other minister. I would not disparage others, for there are many by whom we have been benefited; but this, from the itinerant constitution of Methodism, could not be perpetuated; we are constantly subject to changes which are neither pleasing nor profitable. For the last few years, as a family, we have been passing through many and great trials, and I do not remember ever having the sympathy of one of our ministers."

"When I heard Mr. B. had commenced a class, I ardently desired to meet in it. I accounted it an exceeding great privilege to sit under his ministry; but I felt it would be a far greater to share his weekly counsel and advice; I therefore visited his class a few times, and about the latter end of September, we enrolled our names with the church. Yesterday I called to see Mrs. B., and was much delighted with her: from all I can hear, she possesses the Christian spirit, and exhibits the Christian graces. I felt much pained on Mr. B.'s account when speaking of the bitter persecutions he was experiencing from his enemies. Every day,' said he, do they wrest my words,' &c. But such meekness and forbearance I never before saw. May the Lord bless him with the aid of his spirit, that he may be able to stand in the evil day! We have

united with a persecuted man, but he is happy: reviled, persecuted, maligned, for righteousness' sake: no stain upon his private life have his enemies dared to fix, yet I should not be surprised if they accuse him of all that's bad, so shamelessly do his enemies speak; but no wonder: how can that which is carnal love that which is spiritual?"-Pp. 175–177.

The testimony borne by Mrs. Mawson in this passage to the imperfect sympathies of the Circuit ministers, is a strong condemnation of the itinerant system, and an argument for settled ministers, who may become familiar with their people in the gentle interchange of visits, and be prepared from kind and Christian hearts to offer living sympathy with every domestic woe.

The remainder of her brief course is interestingly told. Her religion amply prepared her for approaching trials. It had become less and less a religion of excitement and feeling, and more that of principle and practice. (P. 186.) Within a few days of the completion of her thirtieth year, she was removed to another world. She rejoiced to be able to prove that her new opinions, as they had not diminished her love to God or to Christ, so neither had they deprived her of spiritual consolation and hope in affliction. (P. 213.) This little book, we think, may be usefully distributed amongst those who are averse to liberal theological views. It will shew them that, in a soil very different from that which they are taught is exclusively watered by God's grace, the fairest flowers of Truth and Love may blow.

The Citizen of Prague. Translated by Mary Howitt. In three vols. Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street.

WE are anxious to notice this, the last of Mrs. Howitt's translations, not only as a work of uncommon merit in itself, but because it is superior in moral worth and intellectual power to any she has before introduced to us. In fact, we have not cordially approved of many of her choice, and therefore wish to claim credit for great discrimination in recommending the Citizen of Prague to our readers.

The scene is laid in Austria-the period, Maria Theresa's reign. In the then unsettled state of Bohemia, the trial for conspiracy, and the sovereign a Queen, a parallel has been found in the circumstances of Great Britain at the present time. We can only regret that the resemblance is not stronger between the Agitator of our sister country and Thomas Thyrnau, the Citizen of Prague, the noble and disinterested Patriot of Bohemia. The pleasant doings and stirring events of Maria Theresa's court are so skilfully grouped by the German authoress, that the volumes offer at once entertainment to the novelreader and satisfaction and delight to the liberal politician.

In the present political degradation of Austria, it is cheering to reflect that the lofty sentiments and noble principles set forth by the Citizen of Prague, are in a language and form that will make them popular where they are most wanted. To us they offer an attractive lesson, and we are duly grateful to Mrs. Howitt for her spirited translation of them.

The Aristocracy of England: a History for the People. By John Hampden, Jun. 12mo. Pp. 336. London-Chapman, Brothers. 1846.

THAT the aristocratic elements in the English Constitution are numerous and powerful; that they are more numerous and powerful in fact, than they are in the theory of the Constitution; that the welfare of the nation requires that they should be checked and counteracted, are propositions to which a large portion of our readers will accede. The author who devotes himself to the exposition of the evils of an Aristocracy is a friend of freedom, and is entitled to our gratitude if he execute his task with both spirit and wisdom. The little volume before us seems to be designed as a companion to Mr. Howitt's popular work on Priestcraft. There is much in it worthy of perusal

and commendation. It presents a strong, but very one-sided, argument, the author's object being to prove that an Aristocracy is, in the words of General Foy, a league of those "who wish to consume without producing, to live without working, to occupy all public places without becoming competent to fill them, and to seize upon all honours without meriting them." A writer on Liberty should not have forgotten to make the concession, that there have been conjunctures of high importance in English history when members of the Aristocracy have been examples of pure and generous patriotism.

We are compelled to notice with disapprobation our author's style. It is wordy, declamatory, and occasionally offensively coarse. He should have remembered his assumed name. Mr. Hampden was a gentleman, and one who spoke pure and idiomatic English. Nothing would have tempted him to indulge in the long and often-recurring series of vulgar epithets-some of them utterly unknown to the English tongue-which disfigure the page of the modern Hampden. These defects may, in the first instance, allure and gratify the uneducated amongst the people; but as readers grow in knowledge and taste, they will require in every History that aims to instruct them, the strength of facts and arguments, rather than of words, and will become increasingly sensible to the charms of a candid spirit and a pure style. It will be chiefly as a collection of facts that this work will be read. If these were compressed into half their present space, and illustrated by ample references, a valuable book would be the result.

The Present State and Causes of Unbelief.

THE unpretending little pamphlet to which we ask, for a moment, our readers' attention-one of the fruits of Mr. Barker's press-was, we believe, originally delivered as a popular lecture in the Presbyterian chapel at Chester, by its minister, Rev. Mortimer Maurice. He has, we think, acted advisedly in now issuing it as a popular tract. Unitarian Christians have, as the names of Fleming, Lardner, Priestley, Wakefield, (Thos.) Watson, Belsham and Channing attest, been long foremost in the defence of the common faith of the disciples of Jesus. They enter the field free from the encumbrances of the popular creed, and against them the champions of infidelity gain no victory. We are therefore, in an important sense, set for the defence of the Gospel-for its historical reality and truth, as well as its simplicity. If the day shall ever arrive when any considerable number of our body shall look with indifference on the department of duty thus committed to our charge in the vineyard of Christ, it will be to our minds a significant sign that our continuance as a separate denomination has ceased to be useful, and that the day of our extinction is deservedly at hand. But we anticipate no such calamity, and have a strong conviction that, notwithstanding occasional eccentricities, the mind of the mass of Unitarians is strongly built up in the historical evidences of our most holy faith. If there be any who think otherwise-especially, if there be any who desire to see the Unitarian body of England turn aside from the well-defined paths of Christian faith into the wandering mazes of German or Transatlantic infidelity-we commend to their attention publications like the present, as wholesome signs of the times.

Mr. Maurice states with sufficient precision what belief in the truths of revelation is. He says it

"-implies belief in the divine origin of Judaism, and the divine authority of Moses, the Jewish lawgiver; in the peculiar presence of God with the Jewish nation, and the fact of a succession of inspired teachers among them, in ancient times the divine origin of Christianity-the belief of miracles as parts of the necessary and historical evidences both of Judaism and Christianity-and the doctrine of the sufficiency of the Scriptures-and that the revealed will of God may be found in the canonical sacred books. It is possible that some might not embrace the earlier links in this chain of facts, yet hold fast the latter ones -or might receive some, but reject others not apparently so closely connected