home with equal facility, if not to the sympathies, at least to the perception of Sterling.

His diction is concise and rhetorical and is marked by philosophical definiteness, so that we are sometimes let into the essential point of a subject by a single felicitous phrase. Thus he says of Montaigne, that he "delighted in all kinds of distinct human realities;" of Carlyle, that he "loves the ideal realized in things and persons, not expounded in systematic thought;" and aptly describes his style, "not so much a figured as an embossed one." Dr. Johnson he declares 66 thing between the parish schoolmaster and the Great Mogul ;" and admirably describes Jean Paul's genius as shrinking "with fastidious and self-complacent vivacity from all the forms, blazonries and authorities of social existence, when these happen to be insufficiently supported by the worth of the men whom nature's habitual irony has thus dignified."

some

In metaphor he often evinces the poetical instinct. Thus speaking of relative excellence, he says the iris in the dew-drop is just as true and perfect an iris, as the bow that measures the heavens, and betokens the safety of a world from deluge; elsewhere speaks of "the artificial parasol of self-conceit" as substituted for the infinite concave of heaven; and compares a poor child's funeral in a gay street in London, to "a wounded raven fluttering through the chamber of a king." In accordance with these characteristics the poetry of Sterling has more grave philosophy than lyric fire. His muse is aphoristic rather than melodious. The calm wisdom of Wordsworth, and the metaphysical intelligence of Coleridge re-appear in his verse. It contains, however, striking rhetorical beauties. In expression, he often blends precision of idea with force of language, so as to produce rare verbal felicity. Thus in the longest of his poems, "The Sexton's Daughter," though many of the stanzas are common-place, the effect of the whole is singularly pathetic, and it leaves a sweetly melancholy impression on the reader's mind, like a strain of elegiac music. His description of the three principal characters, afford a fair example both of the manner and significance of the composition:

THE SEXTON.

Sad seemed the strong, gray-headed man,
Of lagging thought and careful heed';
He shaped his life by rule and span,
And hoarded all beyond his need.

JANE.

Thus from within and from without,
She grew, a flower of mind and eye;
"Twas love that circled her about
And love in her made quick reply.

Church, too, and churchyard were to Jane
A realm of dream, and sight and lore;
And, but for one green field or twain,
All else a sea without a shore.

Of this her isle the central rock,

Stood up in that old tower sublime,
Which uttered from its wondrous clock
The only thought she had of time.
Withdrawn was she from passing eyes

By more than Fortune's outward law,
By bashful thoughts like silent sighs,
By Feeling's lone retiring awe.

HENRY.

For far unlike was Henry's mind

To aught that Jane had seen before;
Though poor and lowly, yet refined
With much of noblest lore.

A gentle widow's only child
He grew beneath a loving rule;
A man with spirit undefiled,

He taught the village school.

And many books had Henry read,
And other tongues than ours he knew,
His heart with many fancies fed,
Which oft from hidden wells he drew.

What souls heroic dared and bore

In ancient days for love and duty,
What sages could by thought explore,
What poets sang of beauty.

With these he dwelt, because within,
His breast was full of silent fire.
No praise of men he cared to win,

More high was his desire.

Thus Henry lived in meek repose,

Though suffering oft the body's pain, Though sometimes aimless thoughts and woes Like wrestling giants wracked the brain.

Her looks like summer lightning spread,
And filled the boundless heavenly deep;
Devoutest peace around she shed,
The calm without the trance of sleep.

And so she freshened all his life,

As does a sparkling mountain rill,
That plays with scarce a show of strife
Around its green, aspiring hill.

We lack space to designate the many beautiful touches which give effect to this simple rhythmi cal tale. Sterling has thrown around it the charm of a pensive imagination, unexaggerated and natural. He sincerely recognized the principle of his favorite Carlyle, that-" Reverence is the condition of insight." His ideal of love is elevateduniting the human and religious:

And man will ask below the skies

That breast may lean to beating breast,
That mingling hands and answering eyes
May halve the toil and glad the rest.

Yet could he temper love and meekness
With all the sacred might of law,
Dissevering gentleness from weakness,
And hallowing tenderness by awe.

"Aphrodite" exhales a classical spirit and has many fine images. As a poem it offers a rich contrast to the "Sexton's Daughter”—and is radiant with the atmosphere of the goddess, by whom

as tale and history tell, And sculptured marble gray, And oracle of festal rite,

Surviving men's decay;

By whom all things are beautiful,
And peaceable and strong,
And joy from every throe is born,

And mercy conquers wrong.

The "Hymns of a Hermit" are pervaded by a truly devout spirit, a confidence in truth, and a sublime hope. The language is concise and appropriate, and some memorable lines occur.

ality, taste and necessity, duty and love, by perpetual conflict, restrain the efficiency of the man. He is a looker-on, where he would fain be an actor; be dreams, hopes and reasons in a perpetual circle; reveals himself by glimpses, and, haunted by a sense of lofty purposes,—with a mind craving new and vast truth, and a heart parched with an infinite thirst for sympathy-instead of adventure, pilgrimage, warfare, or original intellectual creation-those moulds in which the glowing spirits of past ages cast the lava of enthusiasm-a morbid self-inspection, a melancholy prying into consciousness-an oppressive sense of the responsibility and the mysteries of life-make the gifted of this eentury too often but modified re-productions of Childe Harold-which, notwithstanding the repudiation of critics, is most emphatically the illustrative epic of the age. Sterling was, indeed, guiltless of ungrateful misanthropy; and his pious sentiments were a bar to reckless despair; but when we trace the evidences in these volumes of intense mental ac

tivity-a fearless spirit of inquiry-a singularly candid and affectionate disposition, and the comparatively meagre result-we cannot but feel that his self-dissatisfaction was inevitable.

"Otho III.," "Louis XV.," and "Alfred the Harper," are highly suggestive historical anecdotes, reproduced in eloquent and picturesque verse. But perhaps the most striking and characteristic of Sterling's minor poems, is that entiled “AbeWant of scope is, indeed, the complaint of the lard to Heloise." Although ostensibly the embo- most gifted of the present day. They leave mediment of another's feeling, it has an earnest clear-morials of what they were capable of, instead of ness-a deep undertone and terse beauty which eternal deeds and writings. Achievement seems to mark it as the offspring of individual emotion. It is have become visionary, conquest a speculative a genuine sybilline leaf, torn warm from the heart of an impassioned, yet noble and just being; which appeals to the fondest records of experience.

event, and martyrdom a domestic process. Shelley in his letters from an Italian hermitage and Lamartine in his Palestine Journal, breathe the Such life-dramas, as that of Sterling, have an same consciousness of baffled will and perplexed immortal type in Hamlet. We recognize in the endeavor. Indeed, how few men, like Schiller, souls whose developments we thus trace-as in unite genius and character, power regulated by the character of the musing prince-reflective pow- wisdom, and writings moulded from the soul's life, ers, both acute and profound,—a world of sensi-yet shaped into forms of enduring beauty, by pability, impassioned affections, delicate moral feel- tience, taste and rectitude!

BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON.

BY REV. JOHN C. M'CABE.

ing-all the noblest elements of humanity—yet so balanced and opposed as to find no healthful and complete external manifestation. Hence the internal conflict, the aspirations and doubts, the magnificent conceptions and ardent longings which find vague utterance perhaps, but "lose the name of action." An existence like this, is more common to this than any preceding age; and its record is, as before suggested, like a problem but half solved. In a word, the restlessness which accompanies the unattained, robs their being of harmony. The want of a nucleus only seems to prevent a splendid crystalization. Struggle is the most obvious law, and regret the most evident fruit of powers Our wild harps, neglected, above us were swinging, which needed but definite scope, aim, and motive Their chords to the winds in hoarse murmurs were ringing, to leave enduring and valuable fruits. With vari-Like a wail of despair their sad echoes were given, ety of knowledge, there are no grand and satisfac- And we felt as abandoned by man and by Heaven!

By their waters we sat; o'er our sorrows still brooding,
The memory of joys, long departed, intruding,
When Judah went up from the prey like a lion.*
Our tear-drops fell freely, we thought of loved Zion,

tory principles; with intense thought there comes While sadly we gazed on the Euphrates' waters,

forth no sustaining belief; with quick and ardent All sandalled and jewelled came Babylon's daughtersaffection, there is no lasting, adequate and recipro

cated love. Social claims and personal individu- *See Genesis, xlix-9.

with a charge to "till it and to keep it." This ap

Their dark eyes were moistened by pitying sadness-
But her sons mocked our grief, which was swelling to pointment designates the first profession in the

madness.

world-first in order; and suited to the wants, the constitution and happiness of man. Next in order, incidental and necessary to the successful cultiva tion of the soil, are the mechanic arts. As agriculture furnishes the necessary means of life, these contribute to its civilization, luxury and sources of happiness.

We do not undervalue the other professions when we say they may be more easily dispensed with. Even the minister of religion, should his office cease, leaves to us still our Great High Priest, who has, once for all, offered up Himself, a sacrifice for sin; and having made atonement, has passed into the hear. ens, where He ever liveth to make intercession for

us.

The minister of religion performs only a ministerial office, a service rendered by divine prescription. The word of life is left us, though he be removed, and we are taught to come directly and each one for himself, to the Priest, whose office is commensurate with the work of man's redemption, and who alone can make effectual atonement for sin. This office, therefore, first in dignity and first in importance to the race as moral and immortal beings, may be merged in the office-work of Him, who has appointed it. Religion is a personal concern, and each must labor himself to obtain it.

The physician, too, exercises a secondary office. Were the healing art not made the business of 3 certain profession, it would become a subject of common study. If all felt the importance of guarding against the causes of disease, how much might And if all by force of circumstan

In the progress of society, and in a country like ours, there is one subject which deserves to be more fully presented and better understood. It is THE be prevented! WORKING MAN—his proper relative position in so-ces, were made their own physicians, how rapidly ciety--his responsibilities and duties. would the knowledge of therapeutics be acquired and extended!

By the working man, I mean one whose profession is fulfilled by physical labor, whose hard hand The lawyer is an expounder of the law,—yet and lusty sinews show him of that race who were sometimes in his zeal for a bad cause, the pervertappointed to procure their bread by the sweat of er of law, and the subverter of justice. In a simtheir brow, and who fulfils his destiny; whose oc-pler form of society, men settle their disputes by cupation is to till the ground for the means of life, methods more direct and less expensive, by the or practise the arts.

laws of equity as adjudged by common sense, and There are other great subdivisions of society, a reference to common men-than whom none are but these are primordial. I am a working man, better qualified to constitute a court of equity. This but not of this class. The physician, the lawyer, position is exemplified in all trials by jury, which the divine, each may be devoted laboriously to his is ever considered, and must be, the best safe-guard profession; the merchant, the factor, the clerk, to justice. Every man could plead his own cause, magistrate, or legislator, each to his respective the strongest argument for which is the truth in evcalling yet none of these, though all may be idence, and a jury of independent common sense men of hard work, are of the class here contem- men are the best judges. plated.

Let me not be understood as proposing modificaMost of the other occupations of life are facti- tions in society in agreement with these sugges tious, incidental, contingent. The Farmer and tions. What may be practicable, may not be es Mechanic are provided for and appointed in nature, pedient-and the relative supremacy of one proin the original constitution of society, interwoven fession does not of course render the others usewith its elements and lying at its foundation. The less. Without further qualification of what I have natural position, therefore, of these professions is said, I may claim assent to the principles assered first in order, in dignity, in responsibility, in claims. And what I have said of some professions in reaWhen God created the earth, he placed man in it tion to the farmer and mechanic may, I believe, be

said of all others.

not be dispensed with. They are essential to the existence of the race in any form which elevates the condition of man above the barbarian and the

savage.

The farmer and mechanic can- | form, his capacities and capabilities, in order to his
proper influence and command. Give a man know-
ledge, and you give him power Give him indus-
try, and you give him wealth, which again is power.
These greatly advance if they do not perfect him
in his power to influence and control others.
man without them, unless in a state of barbarism
nearly related to the brute, has ever attained to

No

Yet it is evident that working men in society have not the influence which naturally belongs to them; nor do they occupy that position to which they are entitled. Whiskered impudence great power, or held it long. and dandy affectation of the gentleman take the We may find then in each class of society the precedence. Upstarts, whose lily hands and bleach-principal elements of its own elevation. If some

ed brows give evidence that they have never fulfilled the command of their Creator to work and to sweat for their bread, who have never provided for their own living, nor can earn a living for others. often take the reward,-in some important aspects, the highest reward in this life of human labor and effort, the hands and hearts of the fair, while the hard-handed and whole-hearted, the laborious, ecoDomical, efficient farmer and mechanic are rejected and despised. We may attribute this, and sometimes rightly, to the false education of our daughters; but I am about to show that the cause lies deeper, and goes back to the education of the other

sex.

have risen to unnatural heights, their knowledge and wealth have principally contributed to their false position. If other classes have been depressed and degraded below what belonged to them as men, their ignorance or poverty has done it.

Working men fail of their proper position in society for want of knowledge and industry to compete with other classes. Ignorance and poverty lead to vice. These, united, aid and exasperate each other and complete the degradation.

But is it necessarily so? The working man is not excluded from letters. So far from it—his occupations often require the use and practice of some of the highest principles in some of the most abstruse sciences. Geometry in many of its principles, is necessary to the carpenter; chemistry to every man who works in the metals, and in many of its principles, to the agriculturist-and the grand doctrines of natural or mechanical philosophy, to every mechanic whose trade occupies him with machinery.

There is nothing in man so much admired by discerning woman as manliness; the character which belongs to him, who has the power by nature to provide for, defend, and protect her. Man then commends himself to her approval, when he fulfils the proper destiny of man, and appears in his appropriate character. She may be amused by the dandy, who can hand her politely through the Yet because the time and terms of ordinary apstreets and pick her nosegays, slippered and sha- prenticeship in the mechanic arts do not allow him ven as from a bandbox. But when she is look to study at college and acquire the theory separate ing to a settlement in life-for a protector who from the practice of his profession, popular prejucan, if need be, take her on his shoulder and ford dice and popular practice sometimes consign the the stream, or provide for her at home, the foot | laboring man to ignorance. This is wrong. The that is shod for the mud, the hand that is hardened best advantages for studying principles are had in by industry, the sinews that are strengthened by the practice of them. The theory is best acquired labor, will naturally come into a very different es- in the practice. It is the true inductive methodtimate. The man of business is the man of worth. natural, convincing, above all rendering the instrucWhere this is not the case, the state of society it-tions permanent in the mind.

self is factitious and mothers are at fault.

Such are the advantages enjoyed by the mechanYet it is evident that in society, factitious as it ic for acquiring knowledge,—at least in some of is to a great extent, the working man has not the the trades. In all, the mind is left free to think. position which belongs to him. Why is it? The It is even aided by the animation and vigor imparted by exercise and free perspiration.

answer is obvious.

There must be something more in man than brute force to raise him to his proper position, and secure to him his proper influence in society. There must be intelligence and industry, which are, in their results, power and wealth.

Study-a habit of thinking, although on a separate subject from the labor in hand, is in no way calculated-unless it degenerate into a form of absolute abstraction-to divert the mind from a proper attention to business. Indeed, to a limited exKnowledge," said Lord Bacon, "is power." tent, it certainly inspires the body to energy in "Time," said Franklin, "is money.' These pro- | labor.

positions, by two amongst the greatest men of our That the hardest thinkers have been the hardest race, are full of wisdom, and embrace the concen-workers, is a fact which fully sustains this position. trated instruction of volumes. These,-knowledge Let things take their proper course, and study be and industry, the appropriate properties of man, wedded, as is fit, to the mechanical trades, and pamust be added to his other qualities, to his upright rents who wish to educate their sons will bind them

VoL. XIV-75

Is this mere theory? Then it is so only because men are false to themselves. Every mechanic and every working man has time to be a literary man: and if he possess but an ordinary capacity, with suitable application and mental discipline, he will become intelligent if not learned. A very few details will easily show this.

as apprentices rather than consign them to indo- quainted with each of the sciences named, and all lence and vice in a fashionable course. of them with every other branch of learning-and what may be done by these, may be done by any other and every other master and apprentice in every trade and in every branch of business. I do not say that they will then know as much as the masters and professors of these several sciences, but they will know something worth having:they will discipline their minds in the process of Let any farmer's boy, who can read and spell, acquisitions, and make experiments and discoveand who has arrived at years of discretion, take in ries often in their respective occupations. A knowhand the small volume by Blake on the Physiology ledge of about eight or nine minerals will soon enof Botany, and he will in a single year become ac-able an inquisitive mind to learn all the combinaquainted with the whole subject; with the nature. tions in the science of mineralogy. Geology is analysis and habits of plants; their manner of acquired with the same ease; and a comprehengrowth; their diseases with the means of preven- sive geographic survey of the earth's surface is tion and cure; the composition, improvement and the work of but a glance of the eye. The nations adaptation of soils; temperature and light; rotation in their respective ranks are soon marshalled in of crops the best manner of cultivation and im-order and assigned to their relative locations; their provement of plants; with the whole system of manners, habits and character, arising to a great classification, nomenclature and analysis. Let him extent from climate, soil and natural relations, are the next spring take Mrs. Lincoln's Manual of Bot-educed from those relations with almost strict acany, and enter on the analysis of flowers, and he curacy, without personal observation. Political becomes a Botanist.

government, statistical details, and more minute facts, are successively added to the enumeration, and the common day laborer becomes a geogra

Let the apprentice to any trade that is employed in working metals, take a small volume called Jones' Conversations on Chemistry, and read suc-pher. cessively twenty pages a day and the whole vol- Elihu Burritt carried his Greek grammar in his ume, containing a pretty complete system of Chem- hat when a blacksmith's apprentice. He now and istry, will be read in fifteen days. Then let him then stole a glance at its contents before the iron take the list of simple substances, with their subdi- was hot, and while he swung the sledge with his visions, and while at his regular work, he will re- sinewy arms, he revolved the idea in his mind until quire but two or three days to commit them famil- it was welded upon his memory like steel upon iarly to memory. Let him then turn his attention steel. Any blacksmith's boy may do the same to the imponderable agents, light, heat and elec- until he learns Greek and Latin, and like Burritt, tricity, with which he is practically conversant every fifty languages besides. Whatever may be done day, and in a few weeks he learns almost every by a blacksmith in this way, can be done also by a thing that is known of them by philosophers, illus- shoemaker, a saddler, a jeweller, a button-maker, trated by experiments, which fall under his dailya wagoner on the road, a day laborer, or any other observation. He may proceed successively to the man of common sense in any avocation of life. metals, earths, alkalies, gases, chemical affinity, salts, crystalography, and the application of steam power to machinery-and not to say that a few months spent in this employment of his leisure hours, will greatly enlarge his range of thought and happiness, we say confidently that in another year he is a chemist.

Let the carpenter's apprentice take Jones' Conversations on Natural Philosophy; and while he shoves the plane one day, he may learn the names and definitions of the general properties of matter. In the successive chapters of this small manual, as he goes to his work, let him take up the mechanical powers, and the laws of motion with their application to machinery and to the planetary system, and he will soon be a scientific mechanic. A few weeks more will suffice to take him through Pneumatics, Hydrostatics and Optics, and he is able to dispute with philosophers.

In the same way, each of these may become ac

The separation of literary and scientific pursuits from manual labor is unnatural, and the popular sentiment that has sanctioned it is fraught with the greatest evils to intellectual advancement. The mind is as free to act on any subject of science in a blacksmith, as in a closeted student. If not as advantageously placed for abstract investigations, it is under greater facilities for vigorous effort. Physical health conduces greatly, if it be not necessary, to energy and efficiency in mental action. The "mens sana in corpore sano” can be expected only where regular labor, daily labor, secures the corpus sanum by the systematic use of nature's sanative hard work. The physical ills that flesh is heir to, can be prevented only by this appliance against man's universal disposition to laziness.

So far then from the doctrine that labor unfits a man for study, the union of labor and study is nat ural, and those only should be classed among the 'ignorant who are not obliged to work. I do not