proper limits, and greater things are held in proportionably greater honour, it is a wonderful basis of power and intelligence, of wealth, and of liberty. But when the commercial principle grows rank and runs to seed-when it overgrows and chokes up the spirit of the patriot, the enthusiasm of the poet, the devotedness of the artist, or even the humbler feelings, and nobler aims of the merchant,-it becomes a national evil. Poverty were far better than an all-engrossing commercial spirit. When our merchants are as Princes, it is time to halt. Woe to that nation whose Princes and Nobles, or even whose gentry, become imbued with the spirit of traffic and gain-with the commercial principle.

KINDNESS TO THE POOR.

Ir is strange that the rich should not glory in being the protectors of the poor. It is most pitiful to see them rather hunting for excuses to keep aloof from the poor as from a plague. The end of this, if carried to a great extent, would be the downfall of the rich, for Heaven allows such inequalities as exist, and man submits to them, upon a general plan of those who have more than enough, taking care of those who want. It is beyond question, that many of the poor are very provoking in their improvidence,

and not a little dishonest in their representations; but these things might be much corrected by a frank and patient mode of dealing with them. There are some lines by Robert Southey, supposed to be addressed by a poor woman, as a remonstrance to a traveller, which seem to me to be full of most affecting instruction to both rich and poor, as to the heartlessness of one class, and the hasty improvidence of the other.

66 WOMAN.

Ay! idleness! the rich folks never fail
To find some reason why the poor deserve
Their miseries! Is it idleness, I pray you,
That brings the fever or the ague fit?
That makes the sick one's sickly appetite
Turn at the dry bread and potato meal?
Is it idleness that makes small wages fail
For growing wants? Six years agone these bells
Rung on my wedding day, and I was told
What I might look for-but I did not heed
Good counsel. I had lived in service, sir;
Never knew what it was to want a meal;
Lay down without one thought to keep me sleepless
Or trouble me in sleep; had for a Sunday
My linen gown, and when the pedlar came
Could buy me a new ribbon. And my husband-
A towardly young man, and well to do-
He had his silver buckles and his watch;
There was not in the village one who look'd
Sprucer on holidays. We married, sir,
And we had children, but as wants increased
Wages did not. The silver buckles went;
So went the watch; and when the holiday coat
Was worn to work, no new one in its place.
For me-
-you see my rags! But I deserve them;
For wilfully, like this new-married pair,
I went to my undoing.

TRAVELLER.

But the parish

WOMAN.

Ay, it falls heavy there; and yet their pittance
Just serves to keep life in. A blessed prospect!
To slave while there is strength; in age the workhouse;
A parish shell at last; and the little bell
Toll'd hastily for a pauper's funeral.

TRAVELLER.

Is this your child?

Ay, sir; and were he drest

WOMAN.

And clean'd he'd be as fine a boy to look on
As the squire's young master.

These thin rags of his

Let comfortably in the summer wind;

But when the winter comes it pinches me
To see the little wretch! I've three besides,
And.... God forgive me! but I often wish
To see them in their coffins . . . . God reward you;
God bless you for your charity!

TRAVELLER.

You have taught me

To give sad meaning to the village bells!"

Here is instruction; instruction for the hearts of the rich and for the understandings of the poor. Servants, and others in similar situations of personal comfort, and freedom from personal cares, ought to remember how well they are off, and to beware of placing themselves in the condition which the poor woman so forcibly and so pathetically describes. On the other hand, they who by a little help, not only of money, but of advice, and instruction, and sympathy, can keep away such bitterness from the hearts of the poor, why should they not do so? why should they think only of errors

which cannot be reversed, instead of consequences which may be alleviated? Have they no errors of their own to think of, which if similarly visited would make them miserable too? O! it is a shame to be wise above the dictates of humanity, or to harden the heart by way of enlightening the understanding.

INVISIBLE EXISTENCES.

In the lately published life of Mrs. Hemans, there is an extract from one of her letters, in which she describes the life she led when living in Mr. Wordsworth's neighbourhood. "His kindness," she says, "has inspired me with a feeling of confidence, which it is delightful to associate with those of admiration and respect, before excited by his writings; and he has treated me with so much consideration, and gentleness, and care! I wish I had time to tell you of mornings which he has passed in reading to me, and of evenings when he has walked beside me whilst I rode through the lovely vales of Grassmere and Rydal; and of his beautiful, sometimes half unconscious recitation, in a voice so deep and solemn that it has often brought tears into my eyes. One little incident I must describe. We had been listening during one of these evening rides to various sounds and notes of birds, which broke upon the still

ness, and at last I said, Perhaps there may be a deeper and richer music pervading all nature than we are permitted in this state to hear.' He answered by reciting those glorious lines of Milton's

'Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep,' &c.

And this in tones that seemed rising from such depths of veneration! I cannot describe the thrill with which I listened; it was like the feeling which Lord Byron has embodied in one of his best and purest moments, when he so beautifully says

And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.""

It does not appear that the lines which Mrs. Hemans says were quoted by Mr. Wordsworth contained an apt or close illustration of her remark, but they did better, as carrying the mind into a more natural train of thought with which her remark indicated that his listener was ready to sympathise. The theory of spiritual existences, even in this place of our earthly abode, is one upon which those of an imaginative and pensive cast of mind are prone to dwell; nor is such a theory unaccordant with the general analogy of nature, for since every aid which we can artificially provide to the finer organs of our sense discovers to us new