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LUCIFER: A FRAGMENT.

There went a sound of music from the throne, Throughout all heaven and through the diamond gates,

Like a deep swollen stream between its banks;
It passed to flood all space and live for aye;
And wheresoe'er the deep waves found a shore,
Lo! every moving world was lapped in peace,
And no dull thunder broke on any land,
Nor angry wind swept over dreaming seas,
Nor any wrongs were acted there a space,
Though only those bright angels, keeping watch
In planet or in silver satellite,

Heard this their summons, spreading thence their wings

For heaven, nor lighting in those further worlds,
Where they were wont to tarry,-happy worlds,
That in their length of orbit once a year,
Draw near the splendour of God's citadel.
Yet some there were who lingered round their
charge,

As thus it happened on the new-made earth.
Above the inland sea one sheared the air
Towards Carmel, while his shadow, glowing
white,

Moved with him in the dark and level sea,
Till there alighting, shutting his long wings,
He stood; meanwhile each pinion curving high,
Lucid and shot with colours of the prism,
As are two glittering ice-peaks rainbow-edged,
In the blue starlight of the frozen pole.
Not long; for leaning into the dusk air,
He dropped into the vale, and sheared the land
Swift in his easy flight, while mount and rock
Glode past him, and long forests came and
passed,

As if the ponderous earth went rolling on.
And he, uninfluenced by her strong bonds,
Let all the lands and rivers glide away;-
Till suddenly he swept above the hills,
Far into the deep sky, and from the world
Was vanished, sudden as the setting moon
To one descending from a mountain height.
Thus all the broad and labyrinthine ways
Were filled and fed with angel forms, before
The gates swang open thrice, and other sounds
Went out and beat the everlasting stars;
When far beyond the ending of the worlds,
Upon the utmost ebb of those deep tones,
One stretched upon a dark and barren shore,
Felt slow vibrations in the shady air,

And roused, and, through the darkness, moved towards

The extreme edge, whence he might just discern

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While yet the new day sleeps beneath the world;
Then, musing, turned he inland for awhile,
Where, close behind his footsteps, lay a chasm
Unfathomed, a great ocean bed, unfilled
With water, whence the air came flapping up,
And out beyond rough mountain-peaks, arose
As oft he saw, when with loud noise there went
A sudden blast of stones and yellow flame,
From out the low volcano, and a fire
Blood red and smoky burning afterwards,
Showed every dreadful steep and barren plain,
The withered shores of hardened lava streams,
Bestrown with fragments of the shattered
rock.

But now he turned again and stedfastly;
Still looking towards the light, let ope his wings
And stretched on the cold air, and sped away,
Nor halted till he saw thin sprinkled stars,
And on his wings outspread a touch of light,
Fell from the upper air, and slowly shewed
A mighty angel winging his full way
Through the smooth silent air betwixt the worlds:
And thence into a broad highway he came
Silent and emptied of the white-winged host,
That erewhile, crowding towards the gates of
heaven,

Made head against the rolling harmony:
So came he after the great gates were shut
A full half hour, nor sought admittance there,
But shifting his sleek way beneath the walls,
Sought for some open postern idly watched;
But found it not, for only those high gates
That looked adown the broad and silent way,
Gave entrance into that bright citadel.
And thither after labour spent in vain,
He came again, and thus besought the guard,
"I, Lucifer, beseech a little rest,

For I am worn with travel, faint and bruised,
With sudden coming against rugged worlds,
That float in yonder darkness, and my feet
Are lacerated on the hard sharp stars,
And weary are my wings in every joint;
Moreover my weak eyes, unused of late,
Refuse to bear the glory of these gates;
Therefore, I offer for my hostelry`
What other angels give who enter heaven,
My meed of praises while I linger here,
From my first entry to my going out,
One offering of praises unto God!'

W. MOY THOMAS.

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46

Correspondence.

DEAR SIR,-I have read the remarks in the two last numbers of your Journal, in reference to the letter of mine, which appeared in the Leader of September 7th. The Leader, in its Open Council," had invited the free expression of opinion on all subjects, and I merely offered my contribution as to the condition of the people, which, though confessed to be very sad, in many aspects, I, nevertheless, regarded, on the whole, in a hopeful light. In this, it seems, I differ from you and others, who are of opinion that things are getting worse, as regards the mass of the community.

With respect to that portion of my letter to which you have taken the strongest objection, namely, where I expressed an opinion that “by far the largest part" of the expenditure incurred on drink by the people of the United Kingdom was incurred by the working classes. -I have to state that I had no intention of" scolding" or giving offence to those classes, by avowing what I conceived and still hold to be substantially correct; nor do I see that the cause of truth or of public progress would be served by concealing such a fact, however unpalatable its publication may be.

I perceive that you are of a contrary opinion,-that you think the working classes ** are not chargeable with the vice of drunkenness, neither with the practice of spending money in drink," to the extent stated, but that drunkenness is much more characteristic of the middle classes of this country. If this be correct, it is greatly to be lamented, and must certainly be regarded as one of the worst features of our times. One thing is, at all events, perfectly clear, that an enormous quantity of intoxicating liquor is consumed, as will be obvious, from the following brief abstract from the last Parliamentary Returns, (Revenue Returns, part xviii., Sect. A.). I give the quantities of all kinds of drink consumed in one year, the amount of duty paid thereon, the number of persons engaged in selling them, with the amount of licence-tax paid by these persons to the government: Duty paid on Hops,

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(1849) £388,007 3 8

...

(do.)

Quantity

5,076,238 5 11

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5,517,684 10

44,343,984 pounds. 37,545,906 bushels. 22.284,382 gallons.

2,387,534 0 0
1,732,282 0 0

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4,635,363

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6,136,547

(1849)

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Rum, Brandy, &c. (1849)
Wines

Paid by Brewers (for Licenses)

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Duty paid on Tobacco, in 1848,

(unmanufactured) Cigars

Paid by Tobacco Manufacturers and dealers (1849) for Licences ...

20,637 3 434,760 0 3

3,790 10 82,084 10 5

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42,855 brewers. 127,791 beersellers.

8,730 malsters. 86,784 spirit sellrs.

361 distillers. 31,055 wine deals.

Quantity 26,987,618 pounds.

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£20,405,486 58

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Thus, it appears that the drinking and smoking habits of the people of Great Britain are of such a magnitude, that the government can, without difficulty, raise not less than twenty millions a year from them in the shape of taxes alone! Thirty-seven millions of bushels of malt, twenty-two millions of gallons of British spirits, and twenty-six millions of pounds of tobacco, are yearly consumed by our population. Frightful and appalling facts-whoever the classes may be that consume them, and whether the working or the middle classes, or both, surely it is worthy of the earnest efforts of all philanthropic men to endeavour, by some means, to stem the tide of immorality, disease, and death, which invariably follow their train on the heels of intemperance.

You will note the fact, which appears from the above list, that the beer-sellers are by much the most numerous class of drink-vendors in this country; and I think you will ascertain, on enquiry, that the best customers of the beer shops do not belong chiefly to the class which you designate as "the middle class." It appears to me also, looking at the comparatively small number of that class, and the enormous quantity of liquor consumed, that, even supposing every individual of them to be a drunkard, it would be physically impossible for them to swallow so many millions of gallons of beer and spirits, in addition to their wine and brandy, without very considerable assistance from some other quarter.

I have only another word of remark to make with respect to persons "merely professional," offering observations such as these to the public. You seem to think that my views, for example, should be regarded with suspicion, because they come from a person

who does not, strictly speaking, belong to the manual-labour class. Now, I think it possible that this kind of suspicion may be carried to an uncharitable and even intolerant extent, as in the present instance. Your Journal professes to be an "unfettered thinker and plain speaker for truth, freedom, and progress." But what does the profession amount to, if you determine that only the opinions of those who are manual-labourers, or such opinions only as are flattering to that class, are to be freely thought or expressed? It is true I do not work with my muscles, but I have kept myself, exclusively by the labour of my brain, for twenty years past; and probably you know, as well as I do, that though this kind of work does not strengthen the muscles, nor expand the physical power, it is work, and not of an ignoble description either. I, for one, hold that the man who writes a good leading article is at least as profitable a labourer for the community as he who mashes malt or dresses a pin's head-that he who studies the human frame, with the view of alleviating its sufferings, or who organises and directs the labour of others, or more than all, perhaps, he who turns out a good book, is as true a labourer as the man who shoes a horse, or stitches the collar of a coat. I would even go further, and say that human labour is of various grades that the labourer is "skilled" exactly in proportion as he uses his brainand that the highest of all kinds of labour is that in which the brain is brought into the most disciplined and persistent action for worthy purposes.

In what a position should we be now if we were to shut our eyes and ears to what the brain-workers say and write, because they wear good coats, and do not work with their muscles? We might then burn our libraries, stop the press, and go back to painted skins and raw beef as speedily as may be. I fear that, in such a case, even your own Journal would cease to be published, and certainly you would have to re-write your excellent "Letters to Young Men," the greatest examples cited in which are exclusively brain, and not merely muscle, workers.-I am, dear Sir, yours truly,

Leeds, October 17, 1850.

J. SMILES.

[The foregoing letter was received so late, that I cannot do more now, than say that our readers must judge between Dr. Smiles and myself. The necessity of closing this Journal, and the fact that the present number was nearly complete when the Dr's. letter arrived, leave me no alternative but this.-T. C.]

FAREWELL WORDS.

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WITH the present number Cooper's Journal' closes. It commenced in January with a sale of 5,000 in the first week, and went up several hundreds in the course of the first five weeks. In the course of several succeeding weeks the sale of No. 1 reached, in the whole, 9,000; and of Nos. 2 and 3 the sale continued, until those numbers also reached a favourable figure. But the stated weekly sale, after the first few numbers, began to decreaseuntil, when I announced the temporary discontinuance, it was but 3,600. After a suspension of three months, and an issue of 50,000 additional handbills, we have commenced with a weekly sale of but 2,000; and this number does not increase. I have no money to lose; and as the sale will not, now, pay expenses, I at once make up the volume-furnishing the title-page and table of contents with the present number.

I have been thus explicit, because concealment of the facts can answer no good purpose; and it is really necessary that the friends of Progress should know how difficult it is to find sufficient support for a cheap periodical which speaks out. Let me entreat them to take notice-that other periodicals which they would not like to see closed are not paying expenses; and to bestir themselves to secure support for the papers they believe to be honest advocates of Truth, Freedom, and Progress."

On one subject I must add a few words. Readers must not suppose that the Critical Exegesis' is incomplete, because the eighth discourse is not

given. The seven discourses now completed embody the analysis of Strauss's great work. The eighth discourse simply presented my own ideas of the real character of Christ, without any reference to Strauss: it was no proper part of the Critical Exegesis.' It may be, however, that I shall, one day, presume to give my humble views of the real character of Christ to the worll in a more extended form. But, at present, I am disinclined to do so; nor have I any intention of republishing these seven discourses in a separate form. My publisher has some thousands of back numbers on hand, and no one who is in want of odd numbers to make up the volume need suppose there will be any difficulty in obtaining them. The entire volume, bound in cloth boards and lettered, will also be ready for sale immediately, at three shillings.

To the kind friends who have so ably contributed to these pages I have already written my personal thanks, and beg here to renew them, most sincerely. To the friends who have endeavoured to extend the circulation of the Journal' I beg also to express my gratitude--not the less because we have failed.

I may be permitted to say, in conclusion, that although I have no inclination to appear in periodical literature again-I trust, at no very distant time, to produce something which my countrymen of the Present and in the Future may judge worth preservation.

5, Park Row, Knightsbridge, October 22nd, 1850.

6

THOMAS COOper.

P. S. The romance Captain Cobler,' will be regularly issued weekly : about four more numbers will complete it.

MATTERS WHICH ARE NOTE-WORTHY AT THE PRESENT

TIME.

SPREAD OF POPERY.-We are, many of us, in the habit of talking about Romanism as a thing extinct; as an ancient, worn-out creed, which can never again take root in the minds of the English people. Freethinkers, too, usually manifest the greatest indifference to its spread, if they hear of it. Let thoughtful working men, however, be aware of the following facts, collected from the Catholic Directory for 1849:

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Besides the 87 chapels in Scotland, there are 22 stations where 'Divine service' is performed; and there are various stations also in England.

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N.B. In 1838, there were only 17 convents, so that 23 have been built in 10 years: Convents, let the reader remember, are 'religious houses' where women are shut up for life.

Roman Catholic Priests in England.

London District, 157; Central District, 160; Eastern District, 41; Western District, 69; Lancashire District, 189; Yorkshire District, 68; Northern District, 63;-Total in England, 747.

Roman Catholic Priests in Wales,-26.

Roman Catholic Priests in Scotland.

Eastern District, 21; Western District, 47; Northern District, 28; St. Mary's College, Blairs, 6;-Total in Scotland, 107.

Total of Roman Catholic Priests in England, Scotland, and Wales,880; and including the Bishops,-897.

At the close of 1848, therefore, there were, in round numbers 900 Popish Priests and Bishops in Great Britain. The number by the close of 1850, will, undoubtedly, be near upon 1000. When this immense number of active and crafty emissaries, bound together by the most skilfully contrived machinery, is remembered to be perambulating the country where Latimer and Rowland Taylor were burnt 300 years ago; when gorgeous buildings are rising on every hand, devoted to the old superstition; when the Pope is making a Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, at Rome, and the Priests are openly walking in costume, in London; when Ireland is remembered to be filled with Priests, throughout the majority of her counties, and their haughty meddling spirit is witnessed;-who can sit down in indifference, as to the spread of Popery?

But more when it is remembered that Church of England parsons are going over to Romanism, almost weekly; that a secret conclave of Highchurch clergy was held the other day in St. Martin's Hall, Long Acrewhose subject of debate was said to be, the propriety of making the Church independent, or going over to Rome, at once; when Old Harry, Pusey, Keble, and others, are reported to be only biding their time, but really purposing, sooner or later, to go over to Romanism openly with some 100 clergy at their heels; who can be indifferent about Popery?

Let no one imagine that the career of Freethought is to be so very, very easy. Is not the grand, the ultimate struggle, now in prospect-that final one between Reason and the old Superstition? How many will have to suffer, and how much will have to be suffered, before the triumph be gained! Apostles of Reason, Soldiers of Freethought—' gird up the loins of your mind,' and prepare for the encounter!

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