THE INFANT SCHOLAR'S ADDRESS TO THE QUEEN,

WRITTEN AND ADAPTED TO A FAVOURITE SCOTCH MELODY, FOR THE HOME AND COLONIAL INFANT SCHOOL SOCIETY, BY H. S. H.

VICTORIA! Victoria! we hail thy gentle rule;
Victoria, the patroness of every Infant school:

The kings of old their people led to battles fierce and

wild;

'Tis nobler far with fostering care to train each little child.

When Spring's return with primroses and violets fills the green,

We'll weave the pretty flowers to make a chaplet for our queen:

When summer brings the lovely rose again to deck the bowers,

We'll think of thee when we behold the fairest queen of flowers.

In autumn when the yellow crops beneath the sickle

bend,

We'll pray that peace and plenty may Victoria's reign attend:

THE INFANT SCHOLAR'S ADDRESS TO THE QUEEN. 69

And when the winter's wind and snow beat cold against the door,

We'll think of her whose laws protect the fire-side of the poor.

We little children scarce can tell what others mean by care;

But we are told 'tis sorely felt by those a crown who

wear.

Then when thy heart with sorrow swells, whate'er thy troubles be,

Cast all thy care on Him who wore a thorny crown for thee.

May God our sovereign lady grant long o'er this land to rule ;

And children's children bless her name in this our Infant school:

If here we ne'er should see thy face may we hereafter

meet,

Where thou wilt meekly cast thy crown at our Redeemer's feet!

MISTAKES AND CENSURE.

MAY I be allowed to correct a typographical error in the note appended to my last paper? In speaking of the frequent misapprehension of words, a passage was instanced in the Epistle to the Colossians, "Beware lest any man spoil you." The compositor has altered the explanation, 'carry you off as a spoil,' to 'carry you off through a spoil,' a sentence to which he would, I think, find it difficult to assign a distinct meaning. Had the mistake not fallen upon scriptural truth, it would not have been necessary to advert to it, and I am quite willing to ascribe the full share of blame to my own hand-writing. I refer to the error with the more difficulty, as persons who may read this passing notice of an erratum, may imagine that I have been, or am, intruding into that most unseemly province for a lady's pen, Biblical criticism. Yet perhaps I ought not to regret what gives me an opportunity of entreating the kind indulgence of the public to all who appear before them in the character of writers. It is so easy, and apparently so agreeable to sit as critics, that really it is the attitude assumed by every individual who casts his eye on a book, (I do not say merely every reader, for there are very few real readers in the world,) and mistakes, for which the unfortunate writer is no more accountable than I am for the error which I am cor

recting, are commented upon in the tone of severe

censure.

Now some kind consideration is due: we should try to strengthen each other's hand in the Lord, and not be always carping and biting, and jangling, and finding fault. And we ought not, as says the good old rule, to impute a bad motive when it is possible to find a good one. No one will deny that the rule is good, but it is more difficult to find instances of conformity to it than of departure from it. It is only kind to attribute to haste what is unhesitatingly ascribed to ignorance, and to impute to unintentional misapprehension what is charged upon wilful misrepresentation. Every writer is bound to do his best, and in truth, if the Christian writer does not, he is not acting consistently with his profession, yet I repeat, kind allowance ought to be made. I have heard censures fulminated with all the severity of the Vatican, and with as entire a persuasion of infallibility, from persons to whom much humbler words, and a much quieter tone would have been more becoming. The general persuasion seems to be that the more positive is the tone in which sentence is pronounced, the more likely it is to be considered as one from which no appeal ought to be made; and it is true, as has been said, that

A man must serve his time to every trade,
Save censure-critics all are ready made.'

There is no such thing in the present day as a learner. The march of intellect has proceeded so very far that all are teachers, and directors, and guides. It used to be said that people must learn before they can teach, in the same way as it is neces

sary to know how to obey before we are able to command, but such is now the progress of civilization, that all are clambering into Gamaliel's chair, and nobody thinks of sitting down quietly at Gamaliel's feet. There are short cuts to every thing; royal roads, quick judgments. We dispatch the prisoner first, and if we examine into the case at all, we try him afterwards. Every body knows every thing, and like Mr. Talkative in the Pilgrim's Progress, can talk of every thing, nay more wonderful still, can decide upon every thing, dive into unknown motives, and pronounce on the hidden springs of action. And young John Bull, I mean co-temporary John Bull, seems quite to consider that the guinea which he pays for his book, or the shilling which he gives at the door of an exhibition of pictures, confers upon him not only the right of judging, but the faculty of judging aright. He never dreams that he can be in the wrong; he seems to have before his eyes what Spenser's Britomart saw in the enchanted castle,

“Be bolde, BE BOLDE, and every where BE BOLDE." He does not see what she afterwards saw

"BE NOT TOO BOLDE.”

The last sentence may perhaps be too applicable to what I am saying, but really I must intreat the reader's indulgence. I am not writing, as it might appear, from personal feeling; a despicable authorship, vanity which feels sore at the slightest allusion, and mistakes the touch of a friendly hand for the poisoned arrow of an enemy. No-it is merely that I am tired of hearing the cant of criticism, the affectation of deciding in the tone of authority upon things known and things unknown. The levelling system is working as it regards position in society-it is