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for the poor; and especially do we want religious institutions for the poor; and it is partly because we have in our towns no church, no religious ministers, and no effective religious ministration for the masses of the poor, that they are still in so unsettled a condition."

It has been resolved, within the last few months, to build fifty-eight new churches in the diocese of London; two of these are to be erected in St. James's, Westminster, and two in St. Giles's-in-the-Fields, the districts upon which Mr. Beames has so ably commented. Churches and religious teaching can do nothing for the repression of evil, until the state of overcrowding in which the poor live is abolished; until a check is given to vicious amusements; until the police authorities receive fuller powers of supervision; and, above all, and in addition to all, until the education of the poor is carefully and sedulously watched, fostered, and made, to some extent, compulsory. By adopting such means as these, in conjunction with Mr. Hill's project of parental responsibility, we could stem the torrent of evil, and might eventually render our poor, moral, sober, Christians. Prison discipline, too, is of vast importance, and we are every day improving in this point; but the question is of too great moment to be embraced in a paper extending to so considerable a length as the present. Dublin is most remarkable in having carried out a plan of prison discipline which has excited the admiration of French and American writers; and, in examining the Mountjoy Model Prison, there is matter for great and laudable selfsatisfaction. English and foreign tourists who may, during the next three months, pass a few days in Dublin, should visit this prison, and, at the same time, inquire into the admirable working of the National Schools in Marlboroughstreet, the Christian Brothers' Schools in Richmond-street, the School for Industrious Blind in Sackville-street, the Protestant School for Deaf and Dumb at Claremont, and the Roman Catholic Schools for Deaf and Dumb Males at Prospect. In the first the mixed system can be observed; in the second the exclusive system; and in the two last, the wonderful goodness with which the Almighty has repaired the loss of one faculty by the increased strength of another can be studied. We regret that the Christian Brothers' Schools are exclusive; and we rejoice to find little Protestants and little Catholics learning, at the National Schools, from the same books; as their ancestors murdered each other, as their fathers squab

bled, and all because neither knew the goodness of the other, we have hopes that the next generation of Irishmen will prove religion through brotherly love, and that the school friends may grow into manhood, loving each other, not because they are Roman Catholics or Protestants, but because they are Irishmen. We have hope for Ireland, too, from these schools, because in all there is inculcated that species of information which Milton indicated, in the Tractate of Education, when he wrote"And though a linguist should pride himself to have all the tongues that Babel cleft the world into, yet if he had not studied the solid things in them, as well as the words and lexicons, he were nothing so much to be esteemed a learned man as any yeoman or tradesman competently wise in his mother-dialect only."

If, through this paper, our views are those of a pessimist, it is because we love these kingdoms, their stability, their glory, their liberty-and we cannot believe that whilst heathenish sin continues, their integrity is secure, or their condition satisfactory to the Christian or the Patriot. We cannot heal the deep moral ulcer, but we have endeavoured to probe its black extent. Indian conquests, steam ships and electric telegraphs, line of battle ships and noble armies of brave and trusty soldiers, wealth and power at home and abroad-all these this great and United Kingdom possesses; but the true strength of a nation is not all in these: it is more, a thousand times more, in the virtue and dignity of its people. We have not tried to elevate Ireland, in moral excellence, above England or Scotland-she has her own faultswe only assert for her, that no nation is superior in the qualities forming a people-for how few, misgoverned as Ireland has been, could so much be asserted, and asserted truly.


1. Poems, Narrative and Lyrical. By William Motherwell. Glasgow: David Robertson. 1832.

2. Songs. By the Ettrick Shepperd. Now first collected. Edinburgh: William Blackwood. 1831.

3. Fugitive Verses. By Joanna Baillie, Author of "Dramas on the Passions," etc. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon. 1842.

4. The City of the Plague, and other Poems. By John Wilson, Author of "The Isle of Palms," &c. Second Edition. Edinburgh: Archibald Constable and Co. 1817. 5. Tales, Essays, and Sketches. By the late Robert Macnish, L.L.D., Author of the Anatomy of Drunkenness, the Philosophy of Sleep, and various Contributions to Blackwood's Magazine, with the Author's Life. By his Friend, D. M. Moir. Second Edition. London: Henry G. Bohn. 1844.

6. The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir. (Delta.) Edited by Thomas Aird, with a Memoir of the Author. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons. 1852.

7. The Poetical Works of Thomas Aird. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons. 1847.

8. Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers, and other Poems. By William Edmondtoune Aytoun, Professor of Rhetoric and Belles Letters in the University of Edinburgh. Fifth Edition. Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons.


9. Poems. By Alexander Smith. London: David Bogue. 1853.

Is the age of poets passed? The interrogation has been suggested to us through reading the third and fourth volumes in Moore's Journal, and whilst there we have been mentally associated with all the bright and brilliant minds, springing from the beginning of the century, or arising in it, we have thought how the world of genius and of fancy has deteriorated from the time of which Moore wrote.

"Star after star decays."

Aye, they rise, culminate, decline; but, who are the representatives of Byron, of Moore, of Crabbe, of Wordsworth, of Southey? Rogers, he whose Pleasures of Memory first taught Moore the charms of our modern school of poetry, is still living and breathing; but the fancy is weak and the lyre is mouldering with the last of all that bright band, each of whom could sing "I too in Arcadia." Tennyson and Charles Swain are the only verse writers of the last ten years who can be named English POETS. By this we mean to set aside all those writers who head our paper, because some have grown into public notice within the years above mentioned, some were known long before, and they are all Scotchmen.

We regret that Ireland has not taken a higher place within these same ten years, in the poetic ranks of the kingdom, than that which we can assign her. What has become of John Anster, the author of Xaniola, and the translator of Faust? He has been merged in the lecturer on civil law in our University, and has forsaken the stories of Boccaccio for the amatory theories of Sanches, and has forgotten the novels of our day, in the Novels of Justinian. Where is Samuel Ferguson, of whose Forging of the Anchor, Christopher North wished to be the writer, declaring that the world would yet hear of him, and that he was proud of introducing Ferguson to the public in the pages of Blackwood? Twenty-one years have rolled by since then, and though The Fairy Thorn, and many exquisite contributions have proceeded from his pen, fully justifying the prediction of the renowned Christopher, yet he has subsided into the lawyer, and may be seen any day in the Four Courts, looking so grave and demure, behind a pair of hard, pretentious, spectacles, that one can scarcely suppose he ever sang of Una Phelemy, or of The Pretty Girl of Lough Dan. The gushing, hopeful, young spirits, who used to rave like sorcerers in the Nation newspaper, and who sang of rebellion, and blood, and fire, and fury, all fierce, as if, like Washington Irving's hero, “brimful of wrath and cabbage," have all vanished. Some are among the kangaroos of New Zealand, some are refugees amongst the Irish-American humbugs, disgracing their country in the face of the great people who have received them, mouthing their patriotism, and fancying themselves Emmets, whilst they are only monkey Tones, and forgetting the sterling, but fruitless,

because idiot, honesty of Martin, the honesty and self-sacrifice of Smith O'Brien.* Speranza, who was so fierce, and yet so tender, such a very woman, and yet such an AmazonSappho and Boadicea commingled-has forsaken the lyre for the rocking-chair, and though she never can "suckle fools," yet her pen, oh desecration! may chronicle small beer." All who hoped to sing the Irish into a people, and Ireland into a nation, have passed away, and we may well ask

"Where are those dreamers now ?"

In our country poetry is no more; for years we have had only one poet, but then he was a poet, like Burns, of every passion of the heart, and, as he said of his friend Dalton, we may now say of himself—" He too is gone, how fast they go.'

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We find that nearly all the Irish-Americans have "gone the Democratic Ticket" for Pierce, we presume because he expresses a hatred of England. It is strange to discover the Roman Catholics voting for the party who were most violent against them in the Philadelphian riots_ but all Irishmen in America are anomalous-and Dr. Hughes, the Roman Catholic Archbishop of New York, who now contends that you may not revolutionize a hereditary government, but only reform it, subscribed, in the year 1848, the sum of five hundred dollars to aid the Ballingarry invincibles, stating, that he gave his money to "buy a shield for Ireland." If Mitchel was only a reformer, what would the archbishop consider a revolutionist? There is, of course, a difference between "the bloody old British Empire" and the kingdoms of Naples, Austria. and particularly the Dukedom of Tuscany. There was a good moral in the observation of the Paris inn-keeper in "The Sentimental Journey""Does the difference of the time of day at Paris make a difference in the sin ?" asked Yorick. "It makes a difference in the scandal," replied the innkeeper. Yorick adds "I like a good distinction in my heart; and cannot say I was intolerably out of temper with the man." Nor ought we to be with archbishop Hughes, although he does impugn the title of his sovereign to her crown, and of a nation to dethrone a false and perjured pious fool. Brownson, an American Lucas, supports in "Brownson's Quarterly Review," the opinions of Dr. Hughes, and writes of Louis Napoleon and the Irish-"If the new French Emperor give ample security against becoming too formidable, he may count, in a war with England, on the sympathy very nearly of the whole world. The Irish, will they shed their blood for the power that is gorged with the spoil of their church, that oppresses the land of their fathers, and deprives them of their dearest rights?" This is neither Irish nor American in tone. If not Roman Catholic, why is this man undenounced? Dr. Hughes could crush him, as Cardinal Wiseman crushed Lucas some few years ago. Brownson and Dr. Hughes are ardent supporters of the "Catholic University." Are their views of loyalty and constitutional go. vernment to be inculcated?

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