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REMINISCENCES OF EBENEZER ELLIOTT,

THE CORN-LAW RHYMER.

EBENEZER ELLIOTT has passed away from amongst the living into the regions of death and eternity,-from the busy haunts of men into the realms of peace. But by the natural vigour of his mind he has left behind him an imperishable monument. Whilst he lived, however, he breathed and moved amongst those who did not and could not understand him. Those who knew him not were the men of the day, the annoying insects that buzz about us for a brief summer's hour, then disappear in the ever-flowing stream of time, and are lost for ever. His mind resembled one of those beacons seen out at sea, which gives to the mariner, now the brilliant light of a night sun, and then passes away and leaves the darkness more visible. Like most mortals, he had his peculiarities, his sunshine and clouds. When the shadows hung over and around him, he appeared, to the limited vision of ordinary men, less than themselves; but when the light burst forth he was a mental sun in the surrounding darkness. It is thus that so many and various opinions are passed upon him. He could only be understood and comprehended when studied by kindred minds; and was known least by those who moved within his more domesticated circle, and should have known and esteemed him most.

If a stranger had visited Sheffield, or as our poet generally styled it"The city of soot, in which are more steeples to Mammon than to God,"he might have seen a small sized man passing through the streets, or from his country residence to his counting-house, dressed in a suit of shabby brown black, with his hat crown broken, and pressed down almost over his eyes; his boots frequently unlaced, and his trowsers' bottoms partly inside and partly outside of them,walking along as if lost in reverie, which some men interpreted to mean dulness. If, however, he met an acquaintance or a friend, he accosted him not in the ordinary language of greeting, as "How do you do?" or "I hope you are well;" but his countenance brightening, he would accost him, as he has done the writer of this article, with "Oh, you terrible Chartist!" or "Well, have the flunkey Lords ruined the country yet ?" or "No trade and no bread will drive the wolves into the field at last!" His whole soul was evidently absorbed in this great question. At all public meetings, whatever might be the object for which the people assembled, or whatever might be the subject on which he had to speak, he was certain to denounce the Corn-laws, and their lordly supporters, sometimes much to the evident mortification of those who had invited his assistance. On these occasions he was not uniformly distinguished as a powerfully eloquent speaker; yet, at times, whilst speaking, some masterly conception would illuminate his mind. Then, he was truly great and sublime; but suddenly he would sink low into the bottomless bathos; yet even then there were coruscations which illuminated and delighted. On one occasion we saw the poet of meekness and benevolence, James Montgomery, and the poet of feeling and passion, the former chairman of a meeting in the Town Hall, Elliott seated by his side, the motion was one for removing restrictions from the reading of young men, in one of the libraries of the Town; and Elliott was a free-trader in the interchange of mind as well as in commerce. There was a pause in the business of the meeting; the Corn-Law Rhymer arose, his eyes dilated, there was an irresistible movement within; his whole features denoted a storm. The chairman would have called order;

but he saw the smouldering fire must explode, and Elliott exclaimed at the height of his voice, "Am I to be dictated to by a conclave of Methodists? No! I'll be- if I will!"-striking his clenched fist on the desk before him, and then resuming his seat. Many of those who heard these outbursts of passion, condemned him much. But they knew him not. It was the expression of honest heart-felt indignation, at any monopolies or restrictions which spring from any party, sect, or partial interests, which he conscientiously believed impeded or injured the onward progress of the public good or the liberty of his countrymen. It is thus that those amongst whom the poet lived and moved should have judged of him. He was the rough, natural diamond, with more valuable properties and beauties than the polished gem.

That these reminiscences give a tolerably correct estimate of the CornLaw Rhymer, will be evident from his own words. "Corn-Law Rhymer," was a name with which he was pleased, if not proud. He had C. L. R. engraved upon his letter-seal.

The first time I had any correspondence with him was in the year 1832. At that time, I had no personal acquaintance with him; but having heard much of his rising fame, and being about publishing "Wesleyan Parsons: a Satire"-it was sent to him, with a note soliciting his opinion of its merits or defects. I supposed him then to be an author of high literary attainments; from his answer and one other letter the following are extracts:

Sheffield, 8th of April, 1832.

"SIR,-God be thanked for another good sign of the times! It is refreshing in these days to read an honest book like this. But there is no trade which requires a longer apprenticeship than poetry; and poetry like truth, must be its own "exceeding great reward."

Truth with him was poetry, and poetry a truthful picture of nature. Thus he had formed for himself the only correct standard of either poetry or prose: for truth, moral, governmental, or natural, can alone bear the test, or wear the stamp of immortality. After advising the revision of the Satire, previous to printing, which suggestion was acted upon, he says:

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Even as it is, your verse has the rare merit of saying something. Much of what is called poetry has no meaning at all."

These brief sentences convey to the reader the opinion of an extraordinary man, on much of the poetical small talk of the day: whether his opinion be correct, and is borne out by the genius, or rather the want of genius, of the age, he will of course form his own judgment. In a letter of a later date, he says alluding to his own poetic creations and Corn-Law Ryhmes, "I learned to write poetry as calves learn to suck."

This without doubt is true; for he drew from the contemplation of this world and the universe, in their immensity and minutiæ, the material and the fire of his comprehensive muse; and then clothed his ideas and imaginations in glowing, ardent words, which constitute the real, undisputed merit of his poetry.

In the year 1839, or thereabouts, when suffering and oppression had evoked from the gloomy abyss of human passions the spirit of resistance and rebellion, it could not but be gratifying to the feelings of the CornLaw Rhymer to know, that when the people of Sheffield,-goaded almost to madness by insult and suffering,--assembled in their thousands, they selected some of the energetic effusions of his muse to sing on a Sunday

morning, in the large square, where are held our public meetings. It is an awful sight,--a terrific gathering,-when men thus assemble; and it adds much to the solemn grandeur of the scene, when their united voices ascend to heaven loaded with the burthen of those sufferings which oppression has heaped upon them; and they thus breathe vengeance upon the heads of their oppressors. It is a volcano boiling and moving in burning liquid surges before the bursting of the storm. In these meetings were to be seen the vivid flashes,-were to be heard the distant rumblings of concealed but irresistible forces, when the multitudes sung in the words of the poet :

"Hands, and hearts, and minds are ours:
Shall we bow to bestial powers?

Tyrants, vaunt your swords and towers!
Reason is our citadel.

With what arms will you surprise
Knowledge of the million eyes?—
What is mightier than the wise?
Not the might of wickedness.
Trust in force!-To tyrants trust!
Words shall crush ye into dust;
Yet we fight, if fight we must-

Thou didst, man of Huntingdon !*

What we are our fathers were;
What they dared, their sons can dare;
Vulgar tyrants! hush! beware!

Bring not down the avalanche.

By the death which Hampden died!
By oppression, mind-defied!
Despots, we will tame your pride-
Stormily or tranquilly !'''

These hymns were printed and circulated separately, though the poet was not at the time in great favour with the people; for, as they thought, he only sought to give them bread: they demanded, and continue to demand-political freedom. R. OTLEY.

(To be concluded in our next number.)

* One Oliver Cromwell, a brewer.

INDOLENCE OF THE HUMAN MIND.-The human mind is fitted, from its own indolence to be dazzled by the glare of a proposition: and to receive and utter for truth, what it never gives itself the trouble to examine. There is no paradox among all the enormities of despotism, but what finds its advocates from this very circumstance. We must not therefore scorn to encounter an argument because it is foolish. The business of sober philosophy is often a task of drudgery; it must sometimes listen to the most incoherent clamours, which would be unworthy of its attention, did they not form a part of the general din, by which mankind are deafened and misled.-Barlow's Advice to the Privi leged Orders.

Lectures, in London, for the ensuing Weck.

SUNDAY, June 2, at half-past 7, Hall of Science, (near Finsbury Square,) City Road. "Mistakes about Toleration"-George J. Holyoake.

MONDAY, June 3, at half-past 8, Mechanics' Institute, Gould Square, Crutched Friars.

Life and Writings of Algernon Sydney"-S. M. Kydd. At half-past 8, Finsbury Hall, 66, Bunhill Row. "Random Recitations"-H. Tyrrell. At half-past 8, Pentonville Athenæum, 23, Henry Street. "Life of Alfred the Great"-T. H. Rees. At half-past 8, Soho Mutual Instruction Society, 2, Little Dean Street. "Life and Writings of Thomas Moore"-Austin Holyoake.

TUESDAY, June 4, at 8, British Coffee Rooms, Edgeware Road.-Weekly Meeting of the Free Enquirers' Society.

Correspondence.

SIR, The excellent article in No. 20 of your Journal, on the subject of Associative Labour will, I hope, be extensively read and deeply pondered on by the working-men here, in the Staffordshire Potteries. In no part of the kingdom is the deplorable conflict between Capital and Labour carried on with greater virulence than it is in this district. Masters and men are for ever at war with each other, and al! mutual confidence is destroyed. Just now, there is plenty of employment and no idle hands are in the market, because the spring orders from America are being executed. These orders came in so heavily, and pressed so hard upon the master Potters, that the working-men determined to take their advantage of the moment; and consequently a general' strike' for higher wages took place from one end of the Potteries to the other. The men were resolute, and at last the masters were obliged to accede to the proposed terms. By and bye trade will be slack, the labour-market will be full, the unemployed will bid against the unemployed, and wages will of course fall. Then, the masters will have their turn, and endeavour to recover at the ebb-tide what they lost at the flood. And the fruits of this desolating competition are discontent, vindictive unsocial feeling, pauperism, and starvation. Talk of Peace Societies and international arbitration instead of war! Yes, these are admirable movements, and all good men must wish them "God speed'; but what we want most is some power that shall allay the strife amongst the trading classes at home, and set at one' those two elements of commerce-Labour and Capital. This, I believe, might be effected by substituting Association for Competition; and would the working classes reflect on their position, they would soon discover that the remedy for a large majority of the evils they endure is in their own hands. Surely some four or five hundred might practise a little self-denial, now labour is plentiful, in order to raise a sufficient capital that would enable them to carry on a business on their own account.

I know that many are beginning to fancy there is something radically wrong in the system, and would be but too happy to "reform it altogether"; only they don't seem to understand how to begin, or have not the courage to commence an agitation on the subject. As a proof that there is dissatisfaction with the present arrangements, I need but mention, that a short time ago, a working potter proposed to his fellows that they should try and compel their employer to exhibit his books to them with a full statement of his profits accruing every month, and that an average of wages should be struck by that scale. This, however clumsy a proposition it may be, shows that we are thinking about the matter of Labour and Capital down here. In time, perhaps, we shall get hold of the right end of the stick. ing certain you will render us what help you can in this vital question, I remain, Sir, yours most respectfully, ONE OF THE PEOPLE IN THE POTTERIES.

Feel

Mr. Thomas Cooper.

To Correspondents.

Correspondents who wish their communications to reach me at once, will please ad dress "Thomas Cooper, at Mr. Barlow's, Bookseller, 2, Nelson Street, Newcastle-onTyne." This address will serve from June 1st to June 16th. Let it be understood, however, that all letters sent to my home 5, Park Row, Knightsbridge, London," will be duly forwarded to me.

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James Finler; 'Humanitas'; M. L. Shrewsbury; Occleve the Younger'; Samuel Amour; "Barnsley Franklinian." Their poetry is most respectfully declined.

D. C.-He will find his most important question answered in No. 7. of this Journal, page 102.

Un Incrédule,' Paisley. Will this correspondent favour me with his real address, that I may write to him privately?

W. BARBER.-Obliged to him for the correction, that it is not a new house which the Associated Builders are erecting for Mr. Neale, in May Fair; but a large one which they are completely repairing.

C. CRISP. Obliged to him. I have made a note of the matter for use, very shortly.

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GEORGE HARDY.-Of course, John Bright, M. P. for Manchester was the man.

Ignoramus' (a strange signature-but it is the correspondent's own). The lines are

not a quotation, but Gerald Massey's own.

LEARNER.' Let him try again. He will do better next time.

THINKINGS FROM THOMAS PAINE.

TESTIMONY TO CHRIST.-He was a virtuous and an amiable man. The morality that he preached and practised was of the most benevolent kind; and though similar systems of morality had been preached by Confucius, and by some of the Greek philosophers, may years before; by the Quakers since; and by many good men in all ages, it has not been exceeded by any.

CAUSE OF CHRIST'S DEATH.-That such a person as Jesus Christ existed, and that he was crucified, which was the mode of execution at that day, are historical relations strictly within the limits of probability. He preached most excellent morality and the equality of man; but he preached also against the corruptions and avarice of the Jewish priests, and this brought upon him the hatred and vengeance of the whole order of priesthood. The accusation which those priests brought against him, was that of sedition and conspiracy against the Roman government, to which the Jews were then subject and tributary; and it is not improbable that the Roman government might have some secret apprehension of the effects of his doctrine as well as the Jewish priests; neither is it improbable that Jesus Christ had in contemplation the delivery of the Jewish nation from the bondage of the Romans. Between the two, however, this virtuous Reformer and Revolutionist lost his life.

HUMBLE PARENTAGES.-It is somewhat curious, that the three persons whose names are the most universally recorded, were of very obscure parentage. Moses was a foundling; Jesus Christ was born in a stable; and Mahomet was a mule-driver. The first and the last of these men were founders of different systems of religion: but Jesus Christ founded no new system. He called men to the practice of moral virtues, and the belief of one God. The great trait in his character is philanthropy.

THE TRUE THEOLOGY.-That which is now called natural philosophy, embracing the whole circle of science, of which astronomy occupies the chief place, is the study of the works of God, and of the power and wisdom of God in his works, and is the true theology. As to the theology that is now studied in its place, it is the study of human opinions, and of human fancies concerning God. It is not the study of God himself in the works that he has made, but in the works or writings that man has made. It is a fraud to call the sciences human invention; it is only the application of them that is human. Every science has for its basis a system of principles as fixed and unalterable as those by which the universe is regulated and governed. Man cannot make principles; he can only discover them. Since then man cannot make principles, from whence did he gain a knowledge of them, so as to be able to apply them, not only to things on earth, but to ascertain the motion of bodies so immensely distant from him as all the heavenly bodies are? From whence, I ask, could he gain that knowledge, but from the study of the true theology?

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GOD, THE GREAT TEACHER.—It is from the study of the true theology that all our knowledge of science is derived, and it is from that knowledge that all the arts have originated. The Almighty Lecturer, by displaying the principles of science in the structure of the universe, has invited man to study and to imitation. It is as if he had said to the inhabitants of this globe, that we call ours, "I have made an earth for man to dwell upon, and I have rendered the starry heavens visible, to teach him science and the arts. He can now provide for his own comfort, AND LEARN FROM MY MUNIFICENCE TO ALL, TO BE KIND TO EACH OTHER." Of what use is it, unless it be to teach man something, that his eye is endowed with the power of beholding to an incomprehensible distance, an immensity of worlds revolving in the ocean of space? Or of what use is it that this immensity of worlds is visible to man? What has man to do with the Pleiades, with Orion, with Sirius, with the star he calls the North Star, with the moving orbs he has named Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mercury, if no uses are to follow from their being visible? A less power of vision would have been sufficient for man, if the immensity he now possesses were given only to waste itself, as it were, on an immense desert of space glittering with shows.

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