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ImusY 3, 1846. THE NORTHERN STAR, , g
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The " Cricket on the Hearth necessarily ...
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TO CHARTIST POETS. Mr Rhymia'o Bbethbe.v...
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Strange Story—Erfurt, Dec. 21.—Within th...
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Cutting it Short.—Henry the Fourth of Fr...
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, , these thjrtov years, ! " ^Jj^S^^W i ...
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Transcript
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Imusy 3, 1846. The Northern Star, , G
ImusY 3 , 1846 . THE NORTHERN STAR , , g
3 $Eto |Icartj Wxeatk
3 $ eto | icartJ Wxeatk
The " Cricket On The Hearth Necessarily ...
The " Cricket on the Hearth necessarily occupied so much of our space last week , as to leave us no room for several choice scraps of poetry , which we had designed to form part of our " Garland ; " added to which , we have this week received Mr . Cooper ' s Christmas Poem . We are , therefore , induced to give a Supplementary "Garland , " or , " New Tear ' s Wreath , " which we hope to make acceptable to our readers . Mr . Cooper ' s poem , of course , claims our first attention ; we shall , therefore , at once introduce our readers to
©& e Eaton ' s Yule tfmt . $ @ tjristmas Srjpmc . By Thomas Cooper , the Chartist . Losnos : J . How , 209 , Piccamlix . This poem is simply what it professes to be , —a •* Christmas Rhyme . " ' It has no pretensions to the " grand , " and is not at all likely to excite that discussion which the "Prison Rhyme" has caused , and will yet cause . We say , " will yet cause " for , sure Via are , that" The Purgatorj of Suicides" is destined to command greater attentionthan . it hasyetmetwith Up to the present time most of the quarterly and monthly reviewers have been " silent with regard to ike " Purgatory . " Excepting slight" notices "—not " reviews " i-in the "New Monthly , "
the"Hlaminated , " and "Tait ' s Magazines , " none of the monthly or quarterly periodicals have informed their readers that such a work exists . This silence , on ¦ which we are compelled to put the woretconstrnction , cannot last ; the reviewers will be compelled , by and by , to speak out A second edition of the " Purga tory , " we imagine , cannot be far on ; and when that comes , when the reviewerssee that the burking process has failed to stifle the voice of the Chartist rhymester , they will be compelled to break their silence . Then Mr . Coopee may expect to be uncere moniously and unsparingly castigated , and the spirit which exhibited itself in the drivelliugs of the " Literary Gazette , " will be savagely manifested in ihe fierce denunciations poured forth bj
"Blackwood" and the " Quarterly , " In ourantieipationsof ihe future we may not be exactly correct , but we are pretty confident that further praise and blame , from friends and foes , is in store for the "Purgatory of Saidda . " This " Christmas Rhyme " is of the simplest construction , and has little of stirring incident to recommend it . As ( we would fain believe ) a not unfaithful picture of the " olden time , " when baron and yeoman , squire and serf , commingled together , as men of a common mould , to hold joyous festival at the season honoured by custom and religion—influences which yet survive—so viewed , this " Rhyme " Las its charms which cannot fail to find favour in the eyes of the reader . Mr . Cooper seems bent on
making his native county famous . He did not a little towards that end in bis "Wise Saws and Modern Instances ; " and , as with most of those tales , so with this " Christmas Rhyme , " the scene of the story is laid in Lincolnshire . We suppose Mr . Cooper is not ambitious of winning the " Laureateship , " at least not this side of his Chartist and Republican dreams being realised ; but we think he may fairly lay claim to the title of "Lincolnshire ' s Laureate "—a title which neither himself nor his satire comity need be ashamed of . Thorold , the baron of Torksey Castle , Lincolnshire , assembles his tenants and vassals to make merry at Cbxistmas-fide . Thorold is a Saxon , and has gained back the lands which , his fathers held prior to the Noanan invasion . The baron is a widower , bat , like most of the barons of romance , has an only daughter , who is not only beauty personified , but also the personification of all the virtues .
She , of coarse , has a lover , who appears to be of Ivorman blood , and of the family which had disputed possession of Torksey Hall with the Thorolds ; consequently regarded as an enemy by the Saxon baron . At the merry-making at the castle on Christmas eve , the lover makes his appearance disguised as a minstrel , and , of course , his services are called into requisition . The feasting is renewed the next day ( Christinas-day ) , when tiie minstrel is again present . He recites or sings several ballads , most of them having indirect or direct allusion to his love for the baron ' s daughter . The baron ' s suspicions are roused , then confirmed , and the love-sick youth is likely to find himself awkwardly situated , when a lucky accident dispels the baron ' s wrath , and the proscribed Korman gains the hand of his Iadye-Iove , with her father ' s mil consent . Such , in brief , is the thread on which , the poet has strong his description of a Christmas revelry in the " days of old . "
Some of oar readers , who regard Mr . Coopee as a Chartist rather than a poet—perhaps we should speak more correctly in saying , " who regard him as a cSartutpoet ? ' —may object that thisBtory of barons , minstrels , and love-sick ladies , is hardly a fitting theme . Mr . Cooren , in the opening of the third canto , unanticipated and answered this objection . He shall speak for himself : —
IHB POEI S AFOLOGT . Mirth-verse from thee , rude leveller ! Of late , thy dungeon-harpiugs were Of discontent and wrong ; And we , the Privileged , were banned For cumber-grounds of fatherland , In thy drear prison-song . What fellowship hast thou with times When love-thralled minstrels chaunted rhymes At feast , in feudal hall , — And peasant churls , a saucy cretr , Fantastic o ' er their wassail grew , Forgetful of their thrall I—
Lordlings , your scorn awhile forbear , — And with the homely Fast compare Your tinselled show and state ! Hark , if your selfish grandeurs cold Onhumanhearts so firm ahold For ye , and yours , create As they possessed , -whose breasts though rude Glowed with the warmth of brotherhood For all who toiled , through youth and age , 3 " enrich their force-won heritage ! Mark , if ye feel your swollen pride Secure , ere ye begin to chide ! Then , lordlings , though ye may discard The measures I rehearse , Slight not the lessons of the bard—The moral of his verse . —
But we will dare thy verse to chide ! Wouldst re-enact the Barmecide , And taunt our wretchedness With visioned feast , aad song , and dance , While , daily , oar grim heritance Is famine and distress ? Hast thou forgot thy pledges stern , i ever from Suffering ' s cause to turn , But—to the end of life—Against Oppression ' s ruthless band Still onsubduableto stand , A champion in the strife ? Think ' st thou we suffer less , or feel To-day's soul-piercing wounds do heal The wounds of months and years ! Or that oar eyes so long bare been Familiar with the hungry keen Oar babes endure , we gaze serene-Strangers to scalding tears ?
Ah no 3 my brothers , not from me Hath faded solemn memory Of all your bitter grief : This heart its pledges doth renew-To its last poise it Kill be true To beat for your relief . My rhymes are trivial , but my aim Seem ye not purposeless : I would the homely truth proclaim-That times which knaves full loudly blame For feudal haughtiness Would put the grinding crew to shame Who proy on your distress . 0 that my simple lay might tend To Itindle some remorse In your oppressors' souls , aud bend Their wills a . cheerful help to lend And lighten labour ' s corse . '
Return we now to the beginning of the poem W-iich opens with the following picture of
TOBESET BALL , Sight beautiful is Torksey's hall , Adown by meadowed Trent ; Hight beautiful that mouldering wall , And remnant of a turret tall , Shorn of its battlement . For , whilethechildreaof the Spring Blush into life , and die ; And Summer's joy-birds take light wing When Autumn mists are nigh ; And soon the year—a winteriing—With its feU'n leaves doth lie ; That ruin gray—Mhror'd , alway ,
Deep in the silver stream , Doth summon iveird-wrought visions vast , That show the actors of the past Pictured , as in a dream . Me seemeth , now , before mine eyes The pomp-clad phantoms dimly rise , Till the foil pageant bright—A throng of warrior-barons bold , Glittering in burnished steel and gold , Bursts an my glowing sight ,
And , mingles with the martial train , Full many & fair-tressed beauty vain , On palfrey and jenet—That proudly toss the tasselled rein , And daintily curvet ; Aud war-steeds prance , Aud rich plumes glance On helm and burgonet ; And lances crash , And falchions flash Of knighBin tourney met ,
The " Cricket On The Hearth Necessarily ...
Our fathers and their throbbing toil Are hushed in pulseless death ; Hushed is the dire aud deadly broil—The tempest of their wrath ; Yet , of their deeds not all for spoil Is thine , 0 sateless Grave ! Songs of their hrother-hourg shall foil Thy triumph o'er the brave ! Their bravery take , anddarkl y hide Deep in thy inmosthold ! Take all then-mailed pomp and pride To deck thy mansionscold 1 Flnnderer . ' thou hast hut purified
Their memories from alloy ; Faults of the dead we scorn to chide—Their virtuessing with joy . Lord of ourfathers' ashes 1 list A carol of their mirth ; Nor shake thy nieve , chill moralist ! To check their sons' joy-birth : — Itis the season when our sires Kept jocund holiday ; And , now , around our charier fires , Old Yale shall have a lay : — A prison-bard is once more free ; And , ere he yields his voice to thee , His song a merry-song shall be !
Our next extract describes the commencement of the merry-making on
CHRISTMAS EVE . Sir Wilfrid deThorold freely holds What his stout sires held before—Broad lands for plough , and fruitful folds , — Though by gold he sets no store ; And he saith , from fen and woodland wolds , From marish , heath , and moor , — - To feast in his hall , Both free and thrall , Shall come as they came of yore . " Let the merry bells ring out 1 " saith he To my lady of the Fosse ; " We will keep the birth-eve joyfully "Of our Lord who bore the cross !"
* ' Let the merry bells ring loud ! " he saith Te Saint Leonard ' s shaven prior ; "Bid thylosel monks that patter of faith "Shew works , and never tire . " Saith the lord of Saint Leonard's : "The brotherhood " Will ring and never tire "For a beck or a nod of the Baron good ;"Saith Sir Wilfrid : " They will— for hire !" Then , turning to his daughter fair , Who leaned on her father ' s carven chair , — He said . —and smiled
On his peerless child , — His jewel whose price no clerk could tell , Though the clerk had told Sea sands for gold « — For her dear mother ' s sake he loved her well , — But more for the balm her tenderness Had poured on his widowed heart ' s distress ;—More , still more , for her own hearts grace That so Iovelily shone in her lovely face , And drew all eyes its love to trace—' Left all tongues languageless . '—
He said , —and smiled On his peerless child , — "Sweet bird ! bid Hugh our seneschal Send to Saint Leonard's , ere even-fall , A fat fed beeve , and a two-shear sheep , With a firkin of ale that a monk in his sleep May hear to hum , when it feels the broach , And wake up and swig , without reproach !—And the nuns of the Fosse—for wassail-bread—Let them have wheat , both white and red ; And a runlet of mead , with a jug of the wine Which the merchant-man vowed he brought from the Bhine ; And bid Hugh say that their hells must ring A peal loud and long , While we chaont heart-song , For the birth of our heavenly king !" The " mummers" then make their appearance , and the " Yule-leg" is brought in in triumph .
They pile the Yule-log on the hearth , — Soak toasted crabs in ale ; And while they sip , their homely mirth Is joyous as if all the earth For man were void of bale ! And why should fears for future years Mix jolly ale with thoughts of tears When in the horn ' tis poured t And why should ghost of somw fright The bold heart of an English wight When beef is on the board f . The " stranger minstrel" now enters the hall , and is hailed with a shout of welcome . lie is not long allowed to remain idle ; accordingly , he _ commences with a tale , or ballad , called "The Daughter of Plantagenet . " We give the subjoined specimens of the " minstrel ' s"merits : —
'lis midnight , and the broad full mo Jn Fours on the earth her silver noon ; Sheeted in white , like spectres of fear , Their ghostly forms the towers uprear ; And their long dark shadows behind them are cast , Like the frown of the cloud when the lightning hath past , The warder sleeps on the battlement , And there is not a breeze to curl the Trent , The leaf is at rest , and the owl is mute-But list ! awaked is the woodland lut « : The nightingale warbles her omen sweet On the hour when the ladye her lover shall Meet . « * * * Honiara ' s skiff is on the Trent ,
And the stream is raits strength , — For a surge , from its ocean-fountain sent , Pervades its giant length : Roars the hoarse heygre in its course , Lashing the banks with its wrathful force ; And dolefully echoes the wild-fowl ' s scream , As the sallows are swept by the whelming stream ; And her callow young are hurled for a meal , To the gorge of the barbel , the pike , and the eel ; The porpoise heaves ' mid the rolling tide . And , snorting in mirth , doth merrily ride , — For he hath forsaken his bed in the sea , To sup on the salmon , right daintily ! * * * * Divinely streaketh the morning-star With a wavy light the rippling waters ; And the moon look * on from the west , afar , And palely smiles , with her waning daughters , The thin-strown stars , which their vigils keep Till the orient sun shall awake from slsep .
The minstrel ' s "tale" is one of " sorrow and death , " and lest it should mar the evening ' s mirth , the baron calls upon one of his followers , " woodman Ssell , " to give a song . The demand is at once answered , and here is
THE WOOBMAH ' s SONS . I would not be a crowned king , For all his gaudy gear ; I would not be that pampered thing , His gew-gaw gold to wear : But I would be where I can sing Bight merrily , all the year ; Where forest treen , All gay and green , Fullblythely do me cheer . I would not be a gentleman , For all his hawks and hounds , — For fear the hungry poor should ban Uy balls and wide-parked grounds : But I would be a merry man , Among the wild wood sounds ,- — Where free birds sing , And echoes ring While my axe from the oak rebounds .
I would not be a shaven priest , For all his sloth-won tythe : But while to me this breath is leased , And these old limbs are lithe , — Ere Death hath marked me for bis feast , And felled ine with his scythe , — I'll troll my song , The leaves among , All in the forest blythe . This song is followed by a satirical love song by the " minstrel . " Amongst the company is a fat jolly
lay brother , belonging to the convent of St . Leonard , lie tells a tale called " The Miller of Roche . " Mr . Cooper says this tale "is a homely versification of a homely tale , often told by the fireside in Lincolnshire . " ' lie intimates that a similar story is to bo found in the "Decameron . " The story is quite familiar to us , though we cannot say where we have read it , but wc are strongly impressed with the belief that it exists in print in more shapes than one . Be that as it may . the story will bear repeating . Tho second canto closes with the bring ing in of
THf MISSELTOB BUSH , A signal note the pipe hath blown , And a maiden at the door Craves curtsied leave , with roseate blush , To bring the sacred missel-bush . Gaily a younker leads the fair , Proud of his dimpled , blushing care : All clap their hands , both old and young , And soon the misseltoe is hung In the mid-rafters , overhead j And , while the agile dance they thread , Such honey do tht plough-lads seize From lips of lasses as the bees Ne ' er sip from sweetest flowers of May . And iu the rapture of their play , — While shrilly swells the mirthsome pipe , And merrily their light feet trip , — Leave we the simple happy throng Their mirth and rapture to prolong .
Canto III brings Christmas Day , and , with its mom , the return of the merrymakers , greatly augmented in number Uy the arrival of Thorold ' followers , "free and thrall , " from all parts of bis domain . The mummers re-appcar in the full bhv < of their mimic glory , including the "Lord of Mis * rule , " the "Abbot of Unreason , " the "Fiery Dragon , " « tc . Here is a spirited description of
The " Cricket On The Hearth Necessarily ...
THE CHRISTMAS FEAST . 'Tis high Yule-tide in Torksey hall : Jfull many a trophy bedecks the wall Of prowess in field and wood ; Blent with the buckler and grouped with the spear Hang tusks of the boar , and horns of tlie deer—But De Thorold ' s guests beheld nought there That sceivtM of Uwawv blot > u . The mighty wassail horn suspended From the tough yew-how , at Hastings bended , With wreaths of bright holly and ivy bound , Were perches forfaleons that shrilly screamed ,
While tbeir look with the lightning of anger gleamed , As they chided the fawning of mastiff and hound , That crouched at the feet of each peasant guest , And asked , with their eyes , to share the feast . Sir Wilfrid ' s carvenchair of state 'Neath the dais is gently elevate , — But hip smile bespeaks no lordly pride : Sweet Edith sits by her loved sire ' s side , And five hundred guests , some free , some thrall , Sit by the tables along the wide hall , Each with his platter , and stout driuk-horn , — They count on good cheer this Christmas mom !
Not long they wait , not long they wish—The trumpet peals , —and the kingly dish , — The head of the brawny boar , Decked with rosemary and laurels gay , — Upstarting , they welcome , with loud huzza , As their fathers did , of yore ! And they point to the costard he hears in bis month , And vow the huge pig , So luscious a fig , Would net gather to grunch in the daintiful South ! ******
Ham by fat capon , and beef by green worts ; Ven ' son from forest , and mutton from fold ; Brawn from the oak-wood , and hare from the wold ; Wild-j , oose from fen , and tame from the lea ; And plumed dish from the heronry—With choicest apples 'twas featly rimmed , And stood next the flagons with malmsey brimmed , — Near the knightly swan , begirt with quinces , Which the gossips said was a dish for princes ,- — Though his place was never to stand before The garnished head of the royal boar ! Puddings of plumbs and mince-pies , placed In plenty along tbe hoard , met taste Of gossip and maiden , —nor did they fail To sip , now and then , of the double brown ale—That ploughman and shephe / d vowed and swore Was each drop so racy , and sparkling and rare-No outlandish Rhenish could with it compare !
Trow ye they stayed till the meal was done To pledge a health ? Degenerate son Of friendly sires ! a health thrice told Each guest had pledged to fellowships ohLUntarrying eager mouth to wipe , And across the board with hearty gripe Joining rough hands , —ere tne meal was o ' er- — Hearts andhands went with "healths"in the days of yore < The meal is over , and now the " Wassail Bowl " crowns the board . The baron takes the lead in giving the "healths , " and then summons the minstrel to renew his songs . The minstrel responds with a tale of the crusades , entitled "Sir Raymond and the false Palmer , " which closes this canto . The fourth and-last canto opens with " The Gosherd ' s Song . " We have next "The Swineherd ' s Song , " and a very good song it is , but we must not quote it . Several other songs follow , including one by the
baron ' s daughter , and a response by the minstrel lover , both of which are as sentimentally interesting as the most furnace-sighing lover could desire . At last the minstrel breaks out into an unmistakable avowal of his passion , and serious consequences are likely to be the result , for the baron is in no humour to be trifled with , when a sudden shriek of " deathful danger" directs the attention of all present to the struggles of the baron ' s ferryman , who is drowning in the Trent . The baron cries that whoever will save the man shall have any boon he desires , but without waiting for this promise , the minstrel has already plunged into the river and rescued the ferryman . The denouement may be guessed . The baron acts magnanimously , abides by his promise , the two love-lorn ones are made happy , and thereby the happiness ofalltheothers is increased . The poet thus concludes his story : —
High was the feast , and rich tbe song , For many a day , that did prolong The wedding-revelry : But more it needeth not to sing Ol our fathers' festive revelling : — How will the dream agree With waking hours of famished throngs , Brooding on daily deepening wrongs—Astern reality!—With pictures ' ! that exist in life , Of thousands waging direful strife With gaunt Starvation in the holds Where Mammon vauntingly unfolds His boasted banner of success !
Oh , that bruited hearts , in their distress , May meet with hearts whose bounteousness Helps them to keep their courage up , — "Bating no jot of heart or hope !" My suffering brothers ! still your hope Hold fast , though hunger make ye droop ! Bight—glorious Right—shall yet be done ! The toilers' boon shall yet be won ! Wrong from its fastness shall be hurled—The World shall be a happy world!—It shall be filled with brother-men , — And merry Yule oft come again ! In the notes ( which are very interesting ) at the
end of the poem , Mr . Coopsr states that although his " baron" is an imaginary character , not so is the name he has given to him . The Thorold family is the most ancient belonging to Lincolnshire . The Thorold ' s were men of power and renown even in the earliest times of the Heptarchy . To his other information respecting this family Mr . Cooper has done well in adding the following : — Sir John Thorold of Systou is now the chief representative of this Sdxon family ; but report says , that he delights to live abroad—rather than in the midst of his tenantry and dependants , to gladden the hearts of the poor , and receive happiness from diffusing it among others , after the good example of his ancestors .
We must not omit to mention that" The Baron ' s Yule Feast" is ^ gracefully dedicated to the Countess of Blessington . The poem is embellished with a tastefully executed vignette representing a view of Torksey Castle . The work forms a most appropriate "ChristmasPresent , " or "New Year ' s Gift ; " and is altogether such a mental "feast" as we can heartily recommend to our readers . We have now to introduce to our readers another speciraenof Chartist poetry , entitled " A New Song , " sung at a late Chartist soiree at Dundee , a report , or notice of which appeared in last Saturday ' s Star . The singer of tbe song was also its composer , Mr . John M'Crea ; a long-tried and talented advocate of democracy , whose good services to the Radical and Chartist cause deserve to be remembered with honour : — A NEW SONG .
To . ve—Woo'd an' marrkdan' a ' . The dark dreary month of December Was closing the year forty-five , When our Annual Soiree did assemble , To keep the good cause still alive . The taxes , dull trade , and dear living , Were handled with sang , speech , and glee—For a while we forgot a' our slaving , And dream'd that we yet might be free . But the morn when the wark-bells are ringing To muster thefactory . slaves , The thought in our breast will be springing , We ' re robbed by a parcel of knaves . The rich and the noble in splendour Enjoy the sweet fruits of the soil—The drones hae got ease , wealth , and grandeur , While we hae got nothing but toil .
They cry be content with your wages , For this warld's goods tlmna care—Yet despite a'the wealth they hae gotten , ' Thtjr rob aud oppress us for uiair . Would Peel and the Duke feci contented , To toil at the anvil or loom ? Would the Queen and the Prince feel quite happy , If they saw their meal-pock turn toom ? We see now that nought can deliver The poor frae tlie great greedy elves , Unless we our fetters can sever , And set up to work for ourselves . Then cast off the chains of oppression , Let Liberty now be the word , Make them see that the might of the many Is stronger than musketorsword .
Then cheer up my bomne young lasses , And with your sweet voices demand , That the People ' s Petition and Charter May soon be the law of the land . Then ye will be wives free and happy , Your husbands will busk you fu' braw , When ancsthatthemenofBundeo Hare a voice in the making the law . And you that are auld wives and mithers , Come join in your voice wi' the lave , I ' m sure it can gie ye sma' pleasure To lie in the arms of a slave . For the chains and the fetters of bondage , The tyrants arouud you will draw , Till ance that us Radical chaps
Get a voice iu the making the law . Then , hurrah ! for the march of the bondsmen , Tbe honest , the bold , and the brave , The true , and tlie tried , and the faithful , That struggle their country to save . And down with all traitors and tyrants , We'll banish them baitli great and suia " , When anee that tlie men of Dundee Get a voice in the making the law . We know the men of Dundee well—better men tread not the soil of Britain ; we can well imagine , therefore , with what enthusiasm they would join the singer in pealing forth the above simple but bold and honest song . The women of Dundee , too , arc not one whit inferior to the men in sterling patriotism : all honour to them .
The " Cricket On The Hearth Necessarily ...
Quite entering into the spirit of the following ditty , we nevertheless think the matter thereof might have been improved . The author evidentl y thinks so too ; for he says he sends it to us for our own " private perusal , not being good enough to ' publish . " Whatever be its deficiencies , and it is certainly not " above proof , " still we think it too good to consign to that bourne from whence no rejected doggerel returns—the waste paper basket . As the author has not authorised us to publish , his " Apology , " by wav of com promising with our conscience , and also with tlie charitable intent of saving him from the ban ol bis countryman , Father Matthew , we withhold his name : —
A WORD OF APOLOGY . " Dost thou think that because thou art grown virtuous there shall be no more cakes aud ale . "—12 th Night . In cold water's praise they may sing as they may , And its virtues extol to the skies , But the merits of ale whoe'er shall assail I'm sure that the truth he denies , Our health the teetotaller says it will mar , And shorten our days without fail ; 1 'il wager my life that old Jenkyns and Parr Drank many aflaggon of ale . And old " Captain Whiskey" 'tis said causes strife , And they reckon how many he kills , But sure we all know there are spirit and life In a glass of old famous " hushmills , " Old cankering care his harsh message may sead , And tlie dark clouds of sorrow may come ; Still , still we shall find it tho readiest friend To brsak up or brighten the gloom .
The heart of old Scotia how fondly it turns To that name which still honour'd shall be ; 0 say could she drink to her own Robert Burns , In ought but his lov'd " barley bree . " E ' en old Erin ' s shamrock with emerald leaf , Tho emblem of union and love ; When thirsty with sovrosv still drinks in its grief , The dew-drop distilled above . The cynic may sneer and the sensitive start—1 care not a fig what they say But 1 never wi ' , 1 send the dear friend of my heart On a cup of cold water away .
We have , on former occasions , delighted our readers with specimens of the poetiy of the American bard , J . Green-leas Wiuttier . From the leaves ol his evergreen poesy we now call another specimen to grace our " Wreatli . " Whither is known as one ot the ablest and boldest opponents of slavery , and he is not a mere anti-slavery bigot , who can sec no wrong under the American sun , except in the states of the South ; he sees and feels that all is not right , even iu the North and East . Though , nominally , " all men are free" in the ranks of the white population , yet all men arc not happy , nor free from " The Oppressor ' s wrong , the proud man ' s contumely . "
And against the injustice done to the " people , " white as well as black , Whither has raised his voice in indignant terms of reproof to the wrong-doers and oppressors . His sincerity , therefore , cannot be questioned . His denunciation of the Southern slaveholders is excited by his intense love of liberty , and solicitude for the rights and happiness of tlie whole human family . Though we cannot agree with every word of the noble poem we are about to quote , the spirit thereof has our hearty approval , and the poet , himself , has our enthusiastic admiration . The poem is headed by a most appropriate quotation from the speech of an anti-slave orator , Mr . Samuel May : —
OUR COUNTRYMEN IN CHAINS . "Genius of America ! spirit of free institutions ; where arc thou ? How art thou fallen . 0 , Lucifer ! son of the morning—how art thou fallen froai Heaven . ' Hell from beneath is moved for thee , to meet thee at thy coming ! The kings of the earth cry out unto thee , Aha ! Aha!—ART TIIOC 11 EC 0 HE LIKE UNTO US V Our fellow-countrymen in chains ! Slaves—in a land of light and law ! Slaves—crouching on the very plains Where roll'd the storm of Freedom ' s war ! A groan froinEutaw ' s haunted wood' A wail where Camden's martyrs fell-By every shrine of patriot blood , From Moultrie's wall and Jasper ' s well ! By storied hill and hollow'd grot , By . mossy wood and marshy glen , Whence rang of old the rifle-shot ,
And hurrying shout of Marion ' s men ; The groan of breaking hearts is there—The falling lash—the fetter ' s clank ! Slaves—slaves are breathing in that air , Which old De Kalb and Sumter drauk ! What , ho!—our countrymen in chains ! The whip on woman ' s shrinking flesh ! Our soil yet reddening with the status , Caught from her scourging , warm and fresh Wnat ! mothers from their children riven ! What ! God's own image bought and sold ' . Americans to market driven , And barter'a , as the brute , for gold ! Speak ! shall their agony of prayer
Gome thrilling to our hearts in vain s To us , whose fathers scorned to hear The paltry menaee of a chain ; To us , whose boast is loud and long Of holy Liberty and light—Say , shall these writhing slaves of wrong Plead vainly for their plundcr'd right ? What ! shall we send , witli lavish breath , Our sympathies across the wave , Where manhood , on the field of death , Strikes for his freedom , or a grave ? Shall prayers go up , and hymns be sung For Greece , the Moslem fetters spurning , And millions hail with pen and tongue Oar light on all her altars burning ? Shall Belgium feel , and gallant France ,
By Vendome ' s pile and Sehoeubrun ' s wall , And Poland , gasping on her lance , The impulse of our cheering call ? And shall the slave , beneath our eye , Clank o ' er our fields bis hateful chain ? And toss his fetter'd arms on high , Aud groan for Freedom ' s gift in vain ? Oh , say , shall Prussia ' s banner be A refuge for the stricken slaie ? And shall the Russian serf go free By Baikal ' s lake and Neva ' s wave ? And shall tlie wintry , bosom'd Dune ltelax the iron hand of pride , And bid his bondsmen cast the chain , From fetter'd soul and limb , aside % Shalt every flap of England's flag
Proclaim that all around are free , From "farthest Iud" to each blue crag That beetles o ' er the Western Sea ? And shall we scoff at Europe ' s kings , When Freedom ' s fire is dim with us , And round our country ' s altar chugs The damning shade of Slavery ' s curse ? Go—let us ask of ConstauUne To loose his grasp on Poland's throat ; And beg the lord of Mahmoud ' s Hue To spare the straggling Suliote—Will not the scorching answer coma From turban'd Turk and fiery Buss : " Go , loose your fetter'd slaves at home , Then turn , and ask the like of us I " Just God ! aud shall we calmly rest , The Christian ' s scorn—the Heathen ' s mirth—Content to live the lingering jest
And bye-word of a mocking Earth 5 Shall our own glorious land retain That curse which Europe scorns to bear ? Shall out own brethren drag the chain Which not evew Russia ' s menials wear ? Up , then , in Freedom ' e manly part , From grey-beard eld to fiery youth , Audi on the nation ' naked heart Scatter the living coals of Truth 2 TJji—wlillu yo slumber , deeper yet The shadow of our fame is growing ! Up—while ye pause , our sun may set In blood—around our altars flowing ! Oh ! rouse ye , ere the storm comes forth—The gather'd wrath of God and manlike that which wasted Egypt ' s earth , When hail and fire above it run . Hear ye no warnings in tho air ?
Feci ye no earthquake underneath % Up—up—why will ye slumber where The sleeper only wakes iu dentil S Up now for Freedom!—not in strife Like that your sterner fathers saw—The awful waste of human life—The glory and the guilt of war : But break the chain—the yoke remove—And smite to earth Oppression ' s rod , With those mild arms of Truth and Love , Made mighty through the living God ! Down let the shrine of Moloch sink , And leave no traces where it stood ; tfo longer let its idol drink His daily cup of human Wood : But rear another altar there , To Truth and Love and Mercy given , And Freedom ' s gift , and Freedom's prayer , Shall call and answer down from Heaven
CnAniES Mackay is another and true poet , some of whose compositions we have before now transferred to the columns of this , journal . By the bye , wc must protest against the fifth stanza of his " Cry of tho People , " recently published . That stanza inculcates the pitiful slave-feeling of patience under oppression , and consequently utterly spoils what would otherwise be a noble poetical outbnrsfcas worthy of the man as of the poet . Chahlks Mackay ought to have more sense than to invite the trampled down poor to cry , " God help us . " God helps them who help themselves , a truth which the history of all gods has proved from the palmy days ol Hercules to the present hour . The following noble pieco is withoutfault or blemish , while its beauties need no description .
The " Cricket On The Hearth Necessarily ...
Its every line " stirs the blood like the sound of a trumpet : " —
THE VOICE OF THE TIMES . BT cnAIUES MACKAY , Day unto day utters speech—Be wise , oh ye nations , and hear What yesterday telleth to-day , What to-day to the morrow will preach . A change cometh over our sphere , And the old goeth down to decay . A new light has dawned on the darkness of yore , And men shall be slaves and oppressors no more . Hark to the throbbing of thought , In the breast of tbe wakening world ! Over land , over sea , it hath come . The serf that was yesterday bought , To-day his defiance hatli hurl'd , No more in his slavery dumb ; And to-morrow will break from the fetters that bind , And lift a bold arm for the rights of mankind . Hark ! to the voice of tho Time , The multitude think for themselves ¦
And weigh their condition , each one ; The drudge hath a spirit sublime , And whether he hammers or delves , He reads when his labour is done And learns , though he groan under penury's ban , That freedom to think is the birthright of man , But yesterday , thought was confined ; To breathe it was peril or death , And it sunk in the breast where it rose ; Now , free as the midsummer wind , Its sports its adventurous breath , And round the wide universe goes ; The mist and the cloud from its pathway are curl'd , And glimpses of sunshine illumine the world . The voice of opinion has grown ; 'Twas yesterday changeful and weak , Like the voice of a boy ere his prime ; To-day it has taken the tone Of an orator worthy to speak ,
Who knows the demands of the time ; And to-morrow 'twill sound iu Oppression ' s cold ear , Like the trump of the seraph to startle our sphere . Be wise , oh ye rulers of earth , And shut not your ears to the voice , Nor allow it to warn you in vain ; True freedom of yesterday ' s birth Will march on its way and rejoice , And never be conquered again . The day has a tongue—aye , the hours uttw speech-Wise , wise will ye be , if ye learn what they teach . We must haste to twine the last flower in oiu " Wreath . " We have left ourselves no room to speak of the year now expiring , or of the year now commencing ; but this matters little , as if not in this page , we have in our seventh page spoken fully and freel y on "The Past , the Present , and the Future , " and . further " say" thereon is not necessary . It only remains , therefore , for us to wish each and-all of our readers
"a happy new year . " Thanks to a " Paisley bodie , " we can finish our " Wreath" most appropriately : —
A GUDE NEW YEAR I WISH YE A ' . Air—Gv . de nkht , andjoy be iei' you a ' , BY I 1 UOU MACDONALD , Ance mair around the festive board , We welcome hame the new-born year ; A friendly band—hearts blythe and true , Through langsync grief and gladness dear ; Met 'neath the sheltering wings of joy , Cauld Care in vain her blasts may Maw ; Unto the lip , fill high the cup—A gude new year I wish you a ' . If through the auld year ' s vanieh'd hours , Discord has burst with baneful art , Link , link anew that chain of love That lang has hound us heart to heart ; Hereon the threshold of the year , Join hands and sowther ilka flaw ; Drown " by-ganes" in a flowing bowl And drink in peace with ane and a' .
When time rins round anither year Wuu kens gin we'll assemble a' ; Tho' lifes fair sea lies waveless now , Fate ' s angry tempest suae may blaw . 0 through the passing blink we ' ve here , Let kindness ever gie us law-Then to the lip fill high the cup , A gude new year I wish you a * . There may be some wha should be here Now wandering far ayont tlie wave , And some our inmost hearts held dear Cauld slumbering in the peaceful grave , Yet midst our glee we'll ne ' er forget , Tho' down our cheeks the tears may fa' , To drain one sweet , though mournfu' cup , To a' we love wha ' re now awai
0 may the year whose dawn we greet , Outshine the brichtcst e ' er we saw ; May fortune shower her favours sweet Bound honest Poortith's ingles a '; May sacred Truth draw near her ain , Corruption hasten to her fa' - , Then to the lip , fill high the cup—A gude new year I wish you a ' .
To Chartist Poets. Mr Rhymia'o Bbethbe.V...
TO CHARTIST POETS . Mr Rhymia'o Bbethbe . v , —You musthavelong felt , with me , the want ol * a collection of patriotic minstrelsy , that could be used in our public meetings for 'congregational singing . Such a collection has been partly executed at Leicester , and has been sometime in use there . I also composed a dozen little lyrics in prison , and we are in tlie habit of singing these in London . I propose now , however , to get up a more complete volume , to include songs and hymns , that all tastes may be suited . They will include my own " People-Songs , " with some additional ones not yet printed ; and the composers of the Leicester Shaksperean ChartisOIymn Book , I make no doubt ,
will allow me to select , copiously , from their collection . Let me entreat you all , wherever you reside , to contribute . Send me anything you have , whether songs or hymns ; but , let it be fully understood , that [ have license to reject the whole , or any part , of what you send . There must be one judge of the fitness of the pieces ; for , if this business be left to many , there might be some difficulty in detevminirig what to insert , and what to reject , and the collection might be a mere hodge-podge besides . I propose that the price be about ones ' tillinj , and that the profits ( if any ) be divided between the Veteran Patriots' and Exiles' Widows ' and Children ' s
Funds . I trust that every one who possesses any degree of a poet's nature , aud prides himself on the name of Ohartist , will be forward to contribute . Only let the pieces be of the genuine stamp ; let them have sou ! and broad truth , in them ; and let me have them without delay . Your true brother , Thomas Cooper . 131 , Blackfriars-road , London .
Strange Story—Erfurt, Dec. 21.—Within Th...
Strange Story—Erfurt , Dec . 21 . —Within the last two days , a crime has been discovered here , which strongly recalls the history of Casper Haaser . It appears , according to the account in the Cologne Gazette , that a young woman who had been for many years in tlie service of the government counsellor , Von Ehreuberg , and who had recently been married , informed her husband , that in the house of her late master , a female , about twenty-one years of ago , had been shut up for years in a small dark room , and led scantily on bread and water . Information was given to the police , who entered Von Ehrenberg ' s dwelling , and led by his late servant found the unfortunate object she had spoken of . The poor creature , who was in ft dreadful state , and who appeared scarcely human , is Ehrenberg's own daughter by a first marriage . It is stated the unnatural author of her being had taken possession of some property which fell to her on the'death of her mother .
Intbemd Conduct of a Frexch [ Gentleman . — DssPBnxiE Attk mpt at SuroiDEitf Sr . James ' s Park . —On Tuesday atternoon , about four o ' clock , a respecUble dressed female , apparently about tliirtyeiglit years of age , leapt into the ornamental water in the enclosure , immediately facing the Horse Guards . An alarm was raised by several persons who witnessed the occurrence , and one of them , a French gentleman , divested himself of his coat , and dived in after her ; in a moment afterwards he appeared at the surface of the water with the female in bis arms . Both were evidently in a exhausted state , and by this time a large number of persons had collected , and , with some difficulty , they were brought ashore . The female , who was quite insensible , was conveyed with the greatest promptitude by the park-keepers to Westminster Ilospital . Some hopes are entertained of her recovery . The gentleman was taken home in a cab .
Suicide and AiTESfprED Murder . —James Grainger , a blacksmith , who was living with his wife in Stewart ' s Rents , Great Wild-street , Drury-lane , committed suicide , aud at the same time made a most desperate attempt to destroy his wife . On Christmas eve he returned homo from work , taking his wife only two shillings , although his wages amounted to about thirty shillings , and making some excuse to her to account for the deficit , he left his lodging , for the purpose , he said of purchasing some Epsom salts . He , however , soon afterwards returned with two papers , containing , instead of Epsom salts , oxalic acid . The contents of these papers lie dissolved in two separate
cups of water , and bidding his wile tlniiK one lie drank off the other . Almost simultaneously with the act he exclaimed in an emphatic tone , "Oh , I have done it ! " The wife thereon becoming alarmed , refused the proffered cup , and ran fcuwards the door , calling for help . He rushed after her in a frantic state , threw Iter violently on tlie bed , mid endeavouring to strangle her , cried in a most fearful voice , " You must die with me-no one shall possess you after my death . " The unfortunate woman eluded his violence , escaped from the room , and called for succour , when medical and other assistance promptly arrived , but it did not prove effective , as the wretched man died on the ' following ( Christmas ) morning .
Ttt M*.
ttt m * .
Cutting It Short.—Henry The Fourth Of Fr...
Cutting it Short . —Henry the Fourth of Franco , when on a journey , was one day harangued by the mayor of the town , who began with these words , » ' ni en ° reat Scipio arrived before Carthage —— Ihe king , who then saw bv this introduction lliat it would be a Jong and tedious speech , and being desirous ot making the functionary sensible of his opinion , interrupted him , saying " sir , when Scipio . wed before Carthage , he had dined , but I have not bi , 'akfasted . " | t . T ' niEV Detected . —A watch was stolen in the ptf of the opera in Paris . The loser complained in a Ivud voice , and said , "it is just aine ; inaf ' ewminutes my watch will strike : the sound is strong ! and by that means we will ascertain where itis . " The thief , terrified at this , endeavoured to escape , and thereby discovered himself .
Aluermanic Wisdom . —An eminent member of the Board of Aldermen was lately storing the mind of his son with useful knowledge respecting the public monuments of the metropolis , " Observe my lad , " said he , " the three pillars which grace this city owe their origin to the three elements of fire , water , and air . The Monument to fire , iVelson ' s to water , and the Duke of York ' s to air . " " What had the Duke to do with air ? " inquired the youth . " Boy , " replied the intelligent papa , " he was the / i « ir apparent to the throne when he died . "
A Buttered Shirt . — " Why , Lord ha' mercy on us I" cried Molly Crabtree , who had been listening all along , and staring like an owl at twilight , during the successive strange recitals of the two old seal ? rer '~^ , 4 Matthew ever wear a buttered shirt , then ? For Heaven ' s sake tell us the meaningon't !" that I will , ma ' am , " said Paul , touching his hat as gallantly as an admiral ; ' * you see , it was during a severe engagement with the Dutchmen that Mat and I were ordered to the main-top—but hardly had we reached it , when a shot from the enemy cut our mainmast fairly in two , and hurled us both on the enemy ' s deck , in the midst of more than a hundred heavy-bottomed Dutchmen ! To dream of fighting against such odds , ma ' am , you'll understand was , ot
course , out of all question ; ss we quietly walked our bodies , to the tune of ' dotmer and blitzen , ' down below , to become close prisoners under hatches . Now , it so happened , d ' ye see , ma am , that the only fellowprisoners we found in the hole where they crammed us were cheeses and queer big tubs ; and we felt a nat ' ral sort of a curiosity to rummage about the hole , when left in tbe dark by ourselves . Clambering up some o' these huge tubs at one end of the hole , we both lost footing together , and fell head over heels into the midst of something that was remarkably soft ; and there we struggled hard too , —but ' twas all in vain , we could not flounder out—and so were content to remain closed up on all sides up to the neck , with just our heads bobbing out . and
easnmg for breath . Shiver my timbers , if ever I was so pickled before or since ! At length the Dutchman was taken ; and when some of our lads made their way into the dark hole where wo were , we began to hear ' em . Dreadnought a-hoy !* said Mat : 'the Union Jack a-hoy ! ' said I . ' Who ' s there , in the devil ' s name ? cried one : ' Why that ' s old Mat Hardcastle ' s growl—where the devil is he V said first one of our lads and then another . And , as sure as you ' re there , ma ' am , " continued Paul , growing more polite and gallant as he proceeded , " what with one noise and another , it wasn't until the lads had driven their marling-spikes through almost every cask in the hole , that Mat and I were discovered up to the neck in one of the Dutchmen ' s big butter firkins . We were a good deal ashamed , ma ' am , of course , being as how we were soaked to the skin in the grcasp , for it warmed as «•/» stuck in it i mid no doubt by its
melting , we should ha' been able to have got out of it without hel p , if we had had to stay much longer before we had been found . The worst of it was , we could not gftt time to strip for some hours after , and this made us both mighty uneasy , for many was the jokes that was passed upon us as to how we liked our buttered shirts . But Mat ' s heart was always light , all his life long ; and he answered all who asked that saucy question , just as heputs by all sorrow now , with' Butter your shirt ! Sing tantarara-bobus make shift "—and ever since then Matthew has kept his saying ; and it is not a bad one , either , let me tell you , ma ' am ! what think ye ? " concluded Paul Per-Jcms , and took a stifter pull at the gcog than he had ever done that night , thinking that he deserved it for his cleverness , and feeling himself entitled to a double pull because he had missed his turn by telling this yarn . —Wise Saws and Modern Instances , by Thomas Cooper , the Chartist ,
Civil List . —The money vofed for the expenses of the Sovereign ; and it is called the Civil List , probably from the civil manner in which it is granted by Parliament . —Punch . Coal Trade . See Slates . —There is a poetical legend that Cupid was formerly in tho coal and potatoe line , for we are told , on good authority , that " Young love lived once in an humble shed . "—Ibid , Common Law . —The unwritten or customary law , being that part of the law to which we have become reconciled by use , as the eels are to the process of skinning . The Common Law is not good unless it is founded on what no one can remember ; and this accounts for the lawyers being sometimes apt to forget themselves . Sir Mathew Hale says , the origin of the Common Law is as undiscoverable as the head of the Nile ; but , considering the blackness of the subject , it would have been an apter simile to have said the Niger . —Ibid .
Likewise asd Also . —Mr . J . once objected to the competency of a witness , alleging that he was non compos . The court granted leave to test the matter . " Can you tell me , my friend , the difference between likewise and also i "— "May be as ' oul can , " replied the witness . "Go on , sir ; let us hear . "— "Well , you see as 'ou Colonel P . is a . lawyer . " "Very well , " said the counsel . " And you is a lawyer also , " — " Very well . " " Colonel P . is likeivise a gentleman . " " Very well . " " But you is not likewise . " The lawyer was dumb .
German-English . —About the year HH a German , recently imported into Bristol , had happened to hear of Mrs . X ., a wealthy widow . He thought it would be a good speculation to offer himself to the lady ' s notice , as well qualified to " succeed" the late Mr . X ., and , accordingly , waited on the lady with that intention . Having no great familiarity with English , te provided himself with a copy of one of the Anglo-German dictionaries , and , on being announced to the lady , he determined to open his proposal with this introductory sentence : — " Madam , having heard that Mr . X ., late your husband , is dead ; " but , coming to the last word , " gestorben" ( dead ) , he was at a loss for the English eouivalcnt , so , hastily pulling out his dictionary ( a
hugeSvo . ) , he turned to the word " sterben" ( to die ) , and there he found' — - ; but what he found will be best collected from the dialogue which followed , as reported by the lady - . —German : " Madam , hahfing heard that " Mein flerr X ., late your man , is ( these words he kept chiming over , as if to himself , until he arrived at No . 1 of the interpretation of' sterben , ' when he roared out in high glee at h " s discovery ) , dat is , has kicked de bucket !" Widow ( withastonishment ) : "Kicked the bucket , sir ! What ! " German : "Ah ! mein Gott ! Alway Ich make mistake . I vou'd haaf said ( beginning again with the same solemnity of tone ) , since dat Mein llerr X ., late your man , hav hopped
de twig , " which words he screamed out with delight , certain that he had now hit the nail upon tho head . Widow : " Upon my word , sir , I am at a loss to understand you— 'Kicked the bucket , ' and 'Hopped the twig ' . '" German ( perspiring with panic ) : " Ah , madam ! von , two , tree , ten tousand pardon ; dat sad , wicked dictionary I haaf , dat alway bring me in trouble ; but now you shall hear ; " and then , recomposing himself solemnly for a third- effort , he began as before , " Madam , since 1 did hear , or wash hearing , dat Mein llerr X ., late your man , haaf —( with a triumphant shout)—haaf , I say , gone to Davy ' s locker" " Further he would have gone , but the widow could stand no more ..
Corsica ^ "Vesoeasce . —The Court of Assize of Bastia , in Corsica , was occupied on the Oth and 10 th hist ., with the trial of a beautiful girl , little more than 20 years of age , for murder . The circumstances of the case were as follow : —Fiordispina Gadovani , the prisoner , had been seduced by a young man , named Franchi , who had promised her marriage , and who , on the birth of a child appeared disposed to fulfil his promise , but the Child having died , he abandoned his victim , and added to his atrocity by stating that she had been intimate with other men . Jle even made proposals to a bandit named Battini , that he should avow himself to bo tho father of the child , but the bandit rejected them with indignation ; and declared that Franchi should die by his hand if he repeated his calumnies against Fiordispina . On
tho 14 th of Juno last the girl went to the cure of the village in which she resided , and entreated him to use his efforts to induce Franchi to restore her honour and that of her family . The cure complied with her request , but was unsuccessful . " In the evening of the 2 ( itlt , as Franchi was standing by the side ii some young men who were playing at cards in the open air , the report of a pistol was heard , and Franchi fell , exclaiming , "lam killed . " Fiordispina was standing before his body , with the discharged pistol in her hand . " So much , " said she , "lor perjurers and calumniators . " Franchi survived his wounds more than a month , and to the last persisted iu his calumny . She was declared guilty of murder under strong provocation , and with extenuating circumstances , and was sentenced only ts thirty mouths' imprisonment .
SixguXAR Attachment . —At CorricofTorndon . ott on the 4 th ult ., a Mr . Murdoch , a native of Ayr , died , after a residenceof thirty years . On hearing of his demise , a number of relations came from Tolly to carry away his remains ; but the Highlanders came forth < ti masse , armed with bludgeonsexclaiming " He has been one of ourselves and we will not part with him took the body by force to ^ '' " tcrred it in their own lonely Inverness Courier ,
, , These Thjrtov Years, ! " ^Jj^S^^W I ...
, , these thjrtov years , ! " ^ Jj ^ S ^^ W i ^ P ^ J ^ fflSS ^ ] churety ^ i $ } H *& Jn ta ^] W l . ^^/ S ^ -:-3 " ' s these thjrfe vears , S iNp ^ 'S ^
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Citation
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Northern Star (1837-1852), Jan. 3, 1846, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/ns2_03011846/page/3/
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