wealth of the Church be deemed enormous, should it have absorbed, like an unhealthful excrescence, too large a portion of the resources of the country, it is for the Government to interfere, in the exercise of its protective sovereignty over all estates, to relieve the Constitution from the unequal pressure. And this will be done without any prompting of the Dissenters. Catholic sovereigns have not scrupled thus to interpose; Catholic bishoprics have been secularised, and monastic estates have been sequestered, without compunction or fear of excommunication, by Catholic princes. And were the Church of Ireland made to disgorge half of its dishonest and misapplied wealth, for the benefit of the State, the most unexceptionable precedents might be produced. But let it be done by the State, with all possible tenderness to individual life-interests, upon the broad ground of national policy, and not upon false pretences, or for theological

reasons.

Will it be imputed to lukewarmness in the cause either of Reform or of Dissent, that we deprecate the employing of unfair weapons against the Establishment, which may break in the hands of those that wield them, and wound themselves? That we regard with dissatisfaction and dread, the infusion of fanaticism into the elements of debate and strife that are now in action, and lament that good and wise men should be betrayed into expressions savouring of bigotry and violence? If so, it must be because we have failed to make ourselves understood, or because those who have been misled, disdain to be set right by so feeble and unauthoritative a voice as ours.

Art. VI. The Annuals.

IN resuming our account of the Annuals, we find that we have still no fewer than ten to notice. We shall first pay our compliments to our old friends, and then introduce to our readers the new competitors for their favour.

6

The Literary Souvenir maintains its character for the taste displayed in the selection of the embellishments. The Prince of Spain's visit to Catalina,' from a painting by Newton in the collection of His Grace of Bedford, furnishes a splendid frontispiece, delicately engraved by Rolls. Next to this, the Editor probably prides himself upon the 'splendid composition by Fragonard, from the finished sketch of a picture which forms one of the plafonds of the Gallery of Charles X. in the Louvre. The subject is, Francis I. receiving the honour of knighthood at the hands of the Chevalier Bayard. It is certainly a rich and shewy composition, in the true style of French picturesque; and is effectively engraved by Greatbach. There are two exquisite land

scapes; Fairies dancing on the sea-shore in a golden sunset, from a design by Danby, and, Shipwreck off the Isle of Wight, from a design by Bentley, both beautifully engraved by W. Miller and J. Thomas: they are treasures for the portfolio, Heidelberg Castle, from a design by Roberts; Naiads, from a classical painting by Henry Howard; The Inundation, affectingly told by an interesting and well contrasted groupe, on a rising ground, with the submerged village in the back ground, from a painting by A. Scheffen; a Dutch family groupe from Watier, in which, however, the engraver has not succeeded; Children in Prayer, from a painting by Uwins, full of feeling, though not of captivating beauty; and the portrait of a Cauchoise girl, from a painting by Newton; compose the remainder of this well chosen and brilliant selection.

The Volume itself opens, very advantageously, with a glorious sonnet by Wordsworth, on an occasion worthy of calling forth all the Poet's sympathy. Never has a more graceful chaplet been twined for the brow of a bard than the following.

'A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,
Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light
Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height:
Spirits of Power assembled there complain
For kindred Power departing from their sight;
While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain,
Saddens his voice again and yet again.

Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the might
Of the whole world; good wishes with him goes;
Blessings and prayers, in nobler retinue

Than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows,
Follow this wondrous Potentate.
Be true

Ye winds of ocean and the midland sea,

Wafting your charge to soft Parthenope!"

Among the other poetical contributors occur the names of the Editor, Mrs. Watts, Mrs. Hemans, T. K. Hervey, William Kennedy, Caroline Bowles, Mary Howitt, Sir Aubrey de Vere, Miss A. Strickland, the Rev. Charles Hoyle, and E. Gauntlett. The Isles of the Sea Fairies,' by Mrs. Howitt, would tempt transcription, but for what the reader will not find to be a fault,its length it is very gracefully imagined, and reflects something of the golden mist which the painter has thrown over the scene. Timour's Death-bed, by W. Kennedy, is extremely spirited,little pedantic, but this we could forgive for the clever use that is made of the richly sounding names- Kharizmé, Kaundahaur, Iraun,' &c., but our ear will not tolerate the jerk and gallop with which each stanza concludes. The following stanzas are anonymous: if not of the highest order, they touch the feelings.

a

THE FELLOWSHIP OF NATURE.

I.

The mountain breeze! the fresh,-the free!
Oh! bring the arrowy breeze to me!
Be mine, the breathing heights to stem,
The hills' empurpling diadem ;-
To seek-to meet the rushing flow
That thrills my heart, and cools my brow:
And feel my bosom gladly bound,

To catch its soul-inspiring sound.

II.

'Keep, wealth! thy domes and halls of pride,
Thy teeming vales and gardens wide!
Keep, pomp! thy gauds, thy pleasures rare,
Thy flowers, that wreath the brow of Care!
Be mine the strength-the power to fly,
Where care and sorrow come not nigh ;-
To seek the glen, the mountain lone,
Where nature's heart is all mine own.

III.

Ay, earth has many a galling chain,

That binds me down to want and pain ;-
And cold and harsh the world I view ;

And kindred hearts are far and few.

But Nature!-thee!-through good-through illI seek-I bless-unchanging still ;

Alike in calm and tempest wild,

Thou hold'st communion with thy child.

IV.

'Oh! can I press the mountain sod, By mortal footsteps rarely trod;

Or plunge 'mid wilds and forests green,

Where sordid dreams have never been;
Or meet-by far and lonely seas-

Heaven's own-its pure-its blessed breeze,—
Nor feel my bosom inly burn,

And peace, and hope, and joy return?

V.

Oh! can I lift to yonder sky

A lonely and adoring eye,

When scoffing worldlings none are near,
To aim the jest or point the sneer ;-
Its million glories can I view-
Its mighty clouds-its melting blue,-
Nor, spite of pain and anguish, feel
Their holy influence o'er me steal?

VI.

And when the tide of feeling strong,
The yielding spirit bears along,-
When the full heart is swelling high,
With dreams that meet not mortal eye,
Yet held in cold and stern control,
That shake and rend the inmost soul;-
Then, Nature! then--the world I flee,
To pour, unchecked, that soul to thee!

VII.

Reviver thou of visions fled!
Of early joys long vanished!

Entwined with thee, they are not gone,
To sleep in dull oblivion:

Thy magic touch aside can roll

The blinding mists that dim the soul,
And oft, in colder years, renew

Its bright first loves-the warm-the true.

VIII.

Dear, dear to me, through every scene,
Through storm, through sunshine, hast thou been ;
All else hath changed, save only thou;

Bright wert thou aye; and bright art now.
Oh! still on thine, my burning breast
Shall lay its throbbings wild to rest;
Nor feel care's chilling weight, while free
In thine own realms, to worship thee!'

Σ

The prose contributions comprise one of Mr. Leitch Ritchie's continental legends; Frank Lygon, by the Author of Selwyn,--like all that comes from that pen, very clever and interestingly told; Recollections of the Life of Secundus Parnell, by William Howitt; the Sleeper's Shrift, by H. F. Chorley; and some smaller pieces.

Of the two Juvenile Annuals which claim our notice, the young folks instruct us to report, as usual, very favourably. Miss Leslie of Philadelphia and Dr. Walsh have each contributed, as before, very pleasing papers to Mrs. S. C. Hall's Juvenile; L. E. L. has furnished a beautiful story for young people, entitled The Indian Island; and Seven and Seventeen' is worthy of the Author of "Chronicles of a School-room." The Juvenile Souvenir shines in its embellishments, and in a goodly list of contributors the following stanzas we must venture to transcribe.

'A LITTLE GIRL'S LAMENT FOR THE FAIRIES.

I.

'Ah! where are all the fairies flown?

Why ceased their merry reign?

We're all so dull and solemn

I wish they'd come again;

grown,

Mid lawns and bowers, when daylight's done,

Once more to dance and play ;

There never has been any fun,
Since fairies went away.