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In their lust fur caruage blind.
Auu he said: Aiun that ever I made,

Or that shil, ot we should p.all,
The spear uld the sworu formou whose joy

is to say tucar foliow-tuan !'
And for nuny a day oid iubal Cain

Sat brooding o'er bis woe;
And his hand torebore to smite tbe ore,

And bis furuace smothered low,
But he rose at last with a cheerful face,

Aud a bright courageous eye,
And bared mus strong righi arm for work,

While the quick names mounted bigh.
And he saug: Hurra for my bandiwork!'

And the rid sparke lit the nir;
“Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made;'

And be fashioned the first ploughshare.
Aud men, taught wisdom from tue past,

In friendship joined their bauds,
Hung the sword in the hall

, the spear on the wall,
Aud pluugued the willing lauds;
And sang: Hurrah for Tubal Cain!

Our statuch good friend is be;
And for the ploughshare and the plough

To him our praise shall be.
But while oppression lifts its bead,

Or a tyrant would be lord,
Though we may thank him for the plough,

Well not forge: the sword ? PHILIP JAMES BAILEY-RICHARD HENRY HORNE. PHILIP JAMES BAILEY was born at Basford, county of Notting. ham, in 1816. He was educated in his native town and at Glasgow University, after which he studied for the bar. In 1849 he produced his first and greatest poem, ‘Festus,' subsequently enlarged, and now in its fifth edition. The next work of the poet was 'The Angel World,' 1850, which was followed in 1855 by the Mystic,' and in 1858 Mr. Bailey published The Age, a Colloquial Satire.' All of these works, excepting the last, are in blank verse, and have one tendeney and object-to describe the history of a divinely instructed mind or soul, soaring upwards to communion with the universal life.' With the boldness of Milton, Mr. Bailey passes “the flaming bounds of space and time,' and carries his · Mystic'even into the presence of the “fontal Deity.' His spiritualism and symbolical meanings are frequently incomprehensible, and his language crude and harsła, with affected archaisms. Yet there are fragments of beautiful and splendid imagery in the poems, and a spirit of devo. tional rapture that has recommended them to many who rarely read poetry. The 'Colloquial Satire' is a failure-mere garrulity and slipshod criticism. Thus of war:

Of all conceits inisgrafted on God's Word,
A Christian soldier seems the most absurd.
That Word commands us so to act in all things,
As not to hurt another elen in small things.
To dee from anger, batred, bloodshed, strife;

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To pray for, and to care for others' life.
A Christia!ı soldier's duty is to slay,
Wound, harass, saughter, back in every way
Those men whost' souls be pray for nigbt and day;
With what consistency let prtlutts fay.
He's told to love bis enemier: don't scoff ;
He does so; and with rifles picks them cff.
He's told to do to all as he'd be done
By, and be therefore blows them from a gun,

To bless his fots, le · hangs theu up like fun.' We may contrast this doggerel with a specimen of Mr. bailey's ambitious blank verse, descriptive of the solitary, mystic recluse, dweling lion-like within the desert:

Lofty and passionless as date-palm's bride,
Higli on the upmost sunmils of his soul-
Wrought of the elemental light of heaven,
And pure and plastic flame ibat soul could sbew,
Whose nature, like the perfunie of a flower
Enriched w th aromatic run-dust, charms
All, and with all ingratiates itself,
Sat dazzling Purity ; for loftiest things,
Snow-like, are purest. As in mountain morns
Expectant air the sun-birth, so his soul
Her God into its supervatural depths
Accepted brightly and sublimely. Vowed
To mystic visions of supernal things;
Daily endowed with spheres and astral thrones
His, by pre-emptive right, through all time;
Immerged in his own ereence, clarified
From all those rude propensities which rule
Man's heart, a tyrant mob, and, venal, sell
All virtues--ay, the crown of life-to what
Passion soe'er preponent, worst deludes
Or deftliest fatiers, be, death-calm, beheld,
As though through glass of some far-sighting tube,
The resitul future ; and, consumed in bliss,
In vital and ethereal thought abstract,

T'he depth of Deity and heights of heaven.
Or the following fine lines from “Festus:'

We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by beart-tbrobs. He most lives,
Who thinks most, feels the poblest, acts the best.
And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest :
Lives in one hour more than in years do some
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along the veins

Life is but a means onto an end ; that end, 1

Beginping, mean, and end to all things-God.

The dead have all the glory of the world.
And on universal love:

Love is the happy privilege of the mind
Love is the reason of all living things.
A Trinity there seems of principles,
Which represent and rule created life
The love of self, our fellows, and our God.
In all throughont one common feeling reigde:
Hach doth maintain, and is maintainca by the other;

All are compatible--all needful; one
To life-lo virtue oue--and one to bliss:
Which thus togelber make the power, the end,
And the perfection of created being.
From these three principles doth every deed,
Desire, and will, and reasoning, good or bad, como;
To these they all dctermine-suni ana scheme:
The thiree are one in centre and in round:
Wrapping the world of life as do the skies
Our world. Haill air of love, by which we live!
How sweet, how fragrant! Spirit, though unseen-,
Void of gross sigu-is scarce a simple essence,
Iınmortal, immaterial, though it he.
Ove only simple essence liveth-God-
Creator, uncreate The brutes beneath,
The angels high above us, with ourselves,
Are but componnded things of mind and form.
In all things animate is therefore cored
An elemental sameness of existence;
For God, being Love, in love created all,
As he coniains the whole and peuetrates.
Seraphs love God, and angels love the good:
We love each other; and these lower lives,
Which walk the earth in thousand diverse sbapes,
According to their reason, love us too :
The most intelligent affect us most.
Nay, man's chief wisdom's love-the love of God.
The new religion-final. perfect, pure-
Was that of Christ and love. His great command
His all-suficing precept-was 't not love?
Truly to love ourselveg we must love God
To love God we must all his creatures love-
To love his creatures, both ourselves and Him.

Thus love is all that's wise, fair, good, and happy! In 1867 Mr. Bailey added to his poetical works & production in the style of his early Muse, entitled The Universal Hymn.'

RICHARD HENRY HORNE, born in London in 1803, commenced active life as a midshipman in the Mexican navy. When the war between Mexico and Spain had ceased, Mr. Horne returned to England and devoted himself to literature. He is the author of several dramatic pieces-Cosmo de Medici,' 1837; 'The Death of Marlowe.' 1838; and 'Gregory the Seventh,' 1840. In 1841 he produced à “Life of Napoleon; and in 1843, Orion, an Epic Poem,' the most successful of his works, of which the ninth edition is now (1874) before us. In 1844 Mr. Horne published two volumes of proso sketches entitled 'A New Spirit of the Age,' being short biogra. phies, with criticism, of the most distinguished living authors. In 1816 appeared 'Ballad Romances;' in 1848, Judas Iscariot, a Mystery Play; and in 1851, “The Dreamer and the Worker,' two vols. In 1852 Mr. Horne went to Australia, and for some time held the office of Gold Commissioner.

We may note that ‘Orion' was originally published at the price of one farthing, being “an experiment upon the mind of a nation,' and “as there was scarcely any instance of an epic poem attaining any reasonable circulation during its author's lifetime. This nomi.

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nal price saved the author 'the trouble and greatly additional exo pense of forwarding presentation copies,' which, he adds, are not always particularly desired by those who receive them.' Three of these farthing editions were published, after which there were several at a price which 'amply remunerated the publisher, and left the author no great loser.' Orion, the hero of the poem, was meant to present 'a type of the struggle of man with himself—that is, the contest between the intellect and the senses, when powerful energies are equally balanced. The allegorical portion of the poem is defective and obscure, but it contains striking and noble passages.

The Progress of Mankind.-- From · Orion.'

The wisdom of mankind creeps slowly on,
Subject to every doubt that can retard,
Or filing it back upon an earlier time;
So timid are man's footsteps in the dark.
But blindest those who have no inward light.
One mind perchance in every age contains
The sum of all before, and much to come;
Much that's far distant still; but that full mind,
Companioned oft by others of like scope,
Belief, and tendency, and anxious will,
A circle small transpierces and illumes :
Expanding, soon its subtle radiance
Falls blunted from the mass of flesh and bone.
The man who for his race might supersede
The work of ages, dies worn out-not used,
And in his track disciples onward strive,
Some hair-breadthe only from his starting-point:
Yet lives he pot in vain ; for if his soul
Hath entered others, though imperfectly,
The circle widens as the world spins round-
His soul works on while he sleeps 'neath the grasa
So let the firm Philosopher renew
His wasted lamp—the lamp wastes not in vain,
Though he no nirrors for its rays may see,
Nor trace them through the darkness; let the Hand
Which feels primeval impulses, direct
A forthright plough, and make his furrow broad,
With heart untiring while one field remains;
So let the herald poet shed his ihoughts,
Like seeds that seem but lost upon the wind.
Work in the night, thou eage. while Mammon's braio
Tecms with low visions on his couch of down;
Break thon the clods while high-throned Vanity,
Midst glaring lighis and trumpets, holds its court;
Bing thou thy song amidst the stoning crowd,
Then stand apart, obscure to man, with God.

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. This poet is a native of Ballyshannon, county of Donegal, Ire land:

The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one is known,

And not a face in all the place bat partly seems my own. He was born ir 1828, árd from an early age contributed to periodical literature: removing to England he obiained an appointment in the Customs. His publications are Poems,' 1950;' Day and Night

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Songs,' 1854; ‘Laurence Bloomfield in Ireland' (a poem in twelve chapters), 1864; and · Fifty Modern Poems,' 1865. Mr. Allingham says his works' ciaim to be 'genuine in their way.' They are free from all obscurity and mysticism, and evince å fine feeling for nature, as well as graceful fancy and poetic diction. Mr. Allingham is editor of 'Fraser's Magazine.'

To the Nightingales. Yon sweet fastidious nightingales! Was hannted on his hills and gain, The myrtle blooms in Irish vales,

And, oue to France and one to Spain, By Avondhu and rich Longh Line, Th reinpant of the race withdrew ? Through many a grove and bowerlet Was it from anarchy ye flew, green,

And fierce Oppression's bigot crew, Fair-mirrored round the loitering skiff. Wild complaint, and menace hoarse, The purple peak, the tinted cliff. Misled, misleading voices, loud and The glen where mountain-torrents rave, coarse? And foliage blinds their leapmg wave. Broad emerald meadows filled with Come back. O birds, or come at last ! flowers,

For Ireland's furious days are past; Embosomed ocean-bays are ours

And, purged.of enmity and wrong, With all their isles; and mystic towers Her eye. her step, grow calm and Lonely and gray, deserted long,

strong. Lees sad if they might hear that perfect Why shou'd we mies that pnre delight ? song!

Brict is the journey, swift the flight;

And Hesper finds no fairer maids What scared ye? (ours, I think, of In Spanish bowers or English glades, old)

No loves more true on any shore, The sombre fowl hatched in the cold ? No lovers loving music more. King Henry's Normans, mailed and Melodious Erin. warm of heart, stern.

Entreate you; stay not then apart, Smiters of galloclis and kron? (1). But bid the merles and throstles know Or. most and worst, fraternal fend, (And ere another May-time go) Which sad lerne long hath rued ?

Their place is in the second row. Forsook ye, when the Geraldine, Come io the west, dear nightingales ! Great chicftaiu of a glorious live, The rose und myrtle bloom in Irish vales.

ALFRED TENNISON. Mr. Tennyson, the most popular poet of his times, is the young est of a poetical brotherhood of three-Frederick, Charles, and Alfred-sons of the late Rev. George Clayton Tennyson, a Lincoln. shire clergyman,* who is described as having been a man remarkable for strength and stature, and for the energetic force of his character. This gentleman had a family of eleven or twelve children, seven of whom were sons. The eldest three we have mentioned were all educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, pupils of Dr. Whewell.

1 Gallog! 18-keri-Irish foot-soldier; the first heavy-armed, the second light. • The motherof the laureate was also of a clerical family, daughter of the Rev. Stephen Fytele. His paternal grandfather was a Lincolnshirenquire, uwaor of Bayons Manor and Usselby Hilll--properties afterwards held by the poet's uncle, the Right Hon Charles Ten. ny-on D Eyncourt. who assumed the name of D'Eyncourt 10 commemorate his descent from that ancient Norman family, and in compliance with a condition attached to the possesiThe e is author of a volume of poeins-graceful. but without any original distinctive character .-entitled D(18 anıt Hours. 1:54. Charles, the second brother. who joined with Alfred. as stated above in the composition of & volume of verso. became vicar of Grassby Lla. wolnshir, In 1835 Hetwk the name of Turner. on succeeding to a property in Lincoln shire. la 1061, ho pablished a volume of son nuts.

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