mouth, and a bribe in his pocket, a champion against the He loves to deliver panegyrics on himself. I will interrupt him, and say, "Sir, you are mistaken if you think that your talents have been as great as your life has been reprehensible. You began your parliamentary career with an acrimony and personality which could have been justified only by a supposition of virtue. After a rank and clamorous opposition you became, on a sudden, silent; you were silent for seven years; you were silent on the greatest questions; and you were silent for money! You supported the unparalleled profusion and jobbing of Lord Harcourt's scandalous ministry-the address to support the American war-the other address to send four thou sand men, which you had yourself declared to be necessa ry for the defence of Ireland, to fight against the liberties of America, to which you had declared yourself a friend. You, sir, who manufacture stage-thunder against Mr. Eden for his anti-American principles-you, sir, whom it pleases to chant a hymn to the immortal Hampdenyou, sir, approved of the tyranny exercised against America; and you, sir, voted four thousand Irish troops to cut the throats of the Americans fighting for their freedom, fighting for your freedom, fighting for the great principle, LIBERTY; But you found, at last (and this should be an eternal lesson to men of your craft and cunning), that the King had only dishonored you; the court had bought, but would not trust you; and, having voted for the worst measures, you remained, for seven years, the creature of salary, without the confidence of goverment. at the discovery, and stung by disappointment, you beMortified take yourself to the sad expedients of duplicity. You try the sorry game of a trimmer in your progress to the acts of an incendiary. You give no honest support either to the government or the people; observing, with regard to both prince and people, the most impartial treachery and desertion, you justify the suspicion of your Sovereign, by betraying the government, as you had sold the people, until, at last, by this hollow conduct, and for some other steps, the result of mortified ambition, being dismissed, and another person put in your place, you fly to the ranks of the Volunteers and canvass for mutiny. Such has been your conduct; and at such conduct every order of your fellow-subjects have a right to exclaim! The merchant may say to you-the constitutionalist may say to you-the American may say to youand I, I now say, and say to your beard, sir,—“ you are H. Grattan. not an honest man!" THE MORMON WIDOWER'S LAMENT. AND she is dead! and she is dead! My multitudinous bride! No more my weary head may rest No more her sixty gentle hands For she is dead; and from those eyes The fevers seized her all at once, And apoplexy, too; With corns, hysterics, and the mumps, A dozen doctors made her worse; They physic'd and they bled; And though she lived with thirty lives, But ere she died, in countless throngs And waded through each other's tears And even then she thought of me, "Good-by, dear John," she feebly said; Too many, far, for you; And she is artful, sly, and bold, And quite designing, too. "And, John, don't leave your flannels off; Your children need you here. I shall not want you over there, I've had you here quite long enough; And then she closed her eyes in peace, And left me here to mourn her loss, I know I ought to be resigned- But when one's loss is thirty fold, Oh! Mary Anne and so forth Jones, Thy virtues, like thyself, were, too, Or hear each other cry; I sew my buttons on alone, And sing the lullaby. I'll have to marry Widow Smith; I can't get on alone; The children need a mother's care You don't know how they've grown! You left me for a better world, Your souls are free from pain; I must relieve my own despair, And try my luck again. MAN'S MISSION. HUMAN lives are silent teaching, When Truth's banner is unfurled; Youthful preachers, genius gifted, Pouring forth their souls uplifted, Till their preaching stirs the world. Each must work as God has given This weird world of sin and dole. Lift their white hands up appealing, Pure and meek-eyed as an angel, When, like Heaven's arch above, Sounds the perfect chord of love. Life is combat, life is striving, Pass the ore through cleansing fire To be God's refined gold. We are struggling in the morning We shall raise our voice to Heaven, Seize the palm, nor heed the wound. We must bend our thoughts to earnest, Take the Cross, and wait the Crown; Speranza (Mrs. W. R. Wilde). THE BAYONET CHARGE. Nor a sound, not a breath! As we stand on the steep in our bayonets' shine: Surging friend, surging foe; But not a hair's breadth moves our adamant line, The battle smoke lifts From the valley, and drifts Round the hill where we stand, like a pall for the world; And a gleam now and then Shows the billows of men, In whose black, boiling surge we are soon to be hurled, There's the word! "Ready all!” The grim horizontal so bright and so bare. Then the other word-Ha! We are moving! Huzza! We snuff the burnt powder, we plunge in the glare, 29* |