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Kings of the earth, old despots

Who long have bruised mankind,

And long withstood with chains and blood The day of God's great battle

The chainless march of mind; Is breaking on the world ;

And dire, gigantic systems The day when right shall conquer might,

Of error blind and hoar, And wrong to hell be hurled.

On Christian land new-marshalled stand, The storms that shook earth's midnight

And threat the world once more.
Lower, though their reign is done,
And ghastly clouds, in blood-red shrouds, And oh! woe! woe to mortals !
Are struggling with the sun.

For Satan, in great wrath,

From war in heaven by Michael driven, The voice of God Almighty,

Descends in lightning scath; A trumpet-blast sublime,

And all his dragon-angels, Peals out on high through all the sky,

A vengeful cloud and vast, And startles every clime;

In fury fly through all the sky,
And lo! through all the nations,

And swell the blackening blast.
Where'er the watchword flies,
O'er hill, and plain, and ocean main,

But short shall be his triumph,
The mustering millions rise!

For lo ! heaven's gates unfold, I see the mighty gath’ring

And hosts of light, on steeds of white, Of uncomputed bands ;

March down the streets of gold; Prophet and sage, from every age,

And at their head, o'ercircled The living of all lands;

By million arching wings And glorious hosts of martyrs,

Flaming all sides, majestic rides For God and Freedom slain,

The conquering “King of kings !” From dust revive, start up alive, And mingle on the plain !

And lo! the great archangels,

With cohorts bright and fair The great and good, the heroes

Of cherubim and seraphim, Who toil and die for man,

Come marching down the air ! From every land illustrious stand,

And far o'er plain and mountain, And tower along the van ;

O'er many a field and flood, Not all in earth's high places,

Wide o'er the world now floats unfurled Not all the sons of fame,

The banner stained with blood.
But all well known before God's throne,
And called by Christ's own name.

Up! up! ye saints of Jesus,

And make your vestments white; No arms have all these millions,

And girt with fame, in God's great name, No sword, nor spear, nor shield;

Urge on earth's final fight! But mightier far the weapons are

That ensign o'er you flying With which they win the field ;

Must never, never fall, For Truth, and Love, and Labor

Till Christ shall reign o'er carth and main, Are more than shield or sword;

Saviour and Lord of all.
And they shall stand at God's right hand
Who conquer by his word.

O blissful age! It hastens !
But see ! another army

It looms in light afar,

And darts a ray of heavenly day
Is mustering for the fight,

O'er wrong, and woe, and war.
And earth and hell its numbers swell
In dark and wrathful might;

O joy! O martyred brothers,
The hosts of Gog and Magog,

Your great reward appears ! And armies of the air,

Up! live ! and reign with Christ again

A thousand golden years !
Demons, and ghouls, and damnéd souls,
That rave in fierce despair.


No. 901.—7 September, 1861.



1. Thomas De Quincey,
2. Cavour, .
3. Tale of the Tub,
4. An Only Son, — Part 7,
5. Children For Sale,
6. “ Mother's Catechism,"
7. Frederick Barbarossa,


PAGE. Quarterly Review,


601 New Quarterly Review, 613 Dublin University Magazine, 621 Punch,


638 Fraser's Magazine,


POETRY. — “Under the Cloud and Through the Sea,” 578. When thou Sleepest, 578. Retirement, 578. Lament for Earl Russell, 600. Kingdom of God, 600. Refuge, 600. The Comet, 620. Frederick Barbarossa, 639. “ E Pluribus Unum,” 640. The Organ, 640. The Living Dead, 640.


SHORT ARTICLES.—Mr. Sheffield's donation to Yale College, 599. English Pensions, 599. Sacred Mysteries, 599. Germany, 636. Recipe for rendering muslin dresses incombustible, 636. Treaties for the surrender of fugitives from justice, 636. First printed copy of Lord Byron's Poems, 636. Christians in posts of honor in Turkey, 638. The noiseless sewing machine, 638.


A South CAROLINA PROTEST AGAINST SLAVERY : Being a Letter from Henry Laurens, dated

Charleston, August, 1776. Now first published from the original. New York : George P. Putnam.


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ANY NUMBER may be had for 13 cents; and it is well worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value.


"UNDER THE CLOUD AND THROUGH Be it dream in haunted sleep, THE SEA."

Be it thought in vigil lone, So moved they, when false Pharaoh's legion

Drink'st thou not a rapture deep pressed,

From the feeling, 'tis thine own? Chariots and horsemen following furiously,–

All thine own; thou need'st not tell Sons of old Israel, at their God's behest,

What bright form thy slumber blest; Under the cloud and through the swelling sea.

All thine own; remember well

Night and shade were round thy rest. So passed they, fearless, where the parted wave,

With cloven crest uprearing from the sand, - Nothing looked upon thy bed, A solemn aisle before, -behind, a grave,

Save the lonely watch-light's gleam; Rolled to the beckoning of Jehovah's hand. Not a whisper, not a tread So led he them, in desert marches grand,

Scared thy spirit's glorious dream. By toils sublime, with test of long delay,

Sometimes, when the midnight gale

Breathed a moan and then was still,
On, to the borders of that promised land
Wherein their heritage of glory lay.

Seemed the spell of thought to fail,

Checked by one ecstatic thrill ;
And Jordan raged along his rocky bed,
And Amorite spears flashed keen and fear- Felt as all external things,
fully :

Robed in moonlight, smote thine eye; Still the same pathway must their footsteps Then thy spirit's waiting wings tread,

Quivered, trembled, spread to fly; Under the cloud and through the threatening

Then th' aspirer wildly swelling

Looked, where mid transcendency

Star to star was mutely telling
God works no otherwise. No mighty birth

Heaven's resolve and fate's decree.
But comes by throes of mortal agony:
No man-child among nations of the earth

Oh! it longed for holier fire
But findeth baptism in a stormy sea.

Than this spark in earthly shrine ; Sons of the saints who faced their Jordan-flood

Oh! it soared, and higher, higher, In fierce Atlantic's unretreating wave,

Sought to reach a home divine. Who by the Red Sea of their glorious blood

Hopeless quest! soon weak and weary Reached to the freedom that your blood shall

Flagged the pinion, drooped the plume, save!

And again in sadness dreary

Came the baffled wanderer home.
O countrymen! God's day is not yet done!
He leaveth not his people utterly !

And again it turned for soothing
Count it a covenant that he leads us on

To th' unfinished, broken dream; Beneath the cloud and through the crimson While, the ruffled current smoothing, sea ! -Atlantic Monthly. Thought rolled on her startled stream.

I have felt this cherished feeling,

Sweet and known to none but me;

Still I felt it nightly healing
When thou sleepest, lulled in night,

Each dark day's despondency. Art thou lost in vacancy?

CHARLOTTE BRONTE. Does no silent inward light,

Softly breaking, fall on thee?
Does no dream on quiet wing

Float a moment mid that ray,
Touch some answering mental string,

A SHADY and sequestered spot,
Wake a note and pass away?

To meditate alone,

Where foot of man approacheth not,
When thou watchest, as the hours
Mute and blind are speeding on,

Untrodden, and unknown;
O'er that rayless path, where lowers

A little brook to sing to me; Muffled midnight, black and lone;

Some simple flower, to smile; Comes there nothing hovering near,

The shelter of a spreading tree; Thought or half reality,

The gales of heaven the while Whispering marvels in thine

ear, Every word a mystery,

To fan me as they murmur near:

These would I ne'er resign, Chanting low an ancient lay,

To call the proudest portion here,
Every plaintive noto a spell;

With all its glory, mine.
Clearing memory's clouds away,
Showing scenes thy heart loves well ?

Poor world! Thou art a generous soul, Songs forgot, in childhood sung,

All selfish though thou be, Airs in youth beloved and known,

To sip the froth of pleasure's bowl, Whispered by that airy tongue,

And leave the draught to me. Once again are made thine own.

- Chambers's Journal.

From The Quarterly Review. children, and, if his own reminiscences are Selections, Grave and Gay, from Writings to be credited, was a warm-hearted but mus

published and unpublished by Thomas De ing, imaginative, and rather weakly child. Quincey. Edinburgh and London, 1854- The death of two elder sisters before he had 60. 14 vols, 12mo.

completed his sixth year left a lasting imThe position of De Quincey in the litera- pression on his mind; and he has described, ture of the present day is remarkable. We in language of great force and beauty, his might search in vain for a writer who, with sensations at the funeral of one, and the sinequal powers, has made an equally slight im- gular dreams with which his first experience pression upon the general public. His style of death inspired him. His father died when is superb : his powers of reasoning are unsur- Thomas was in his seventh year, leaving passed : his imagination is warm and bril- Greenhays, with a fortune of £1,600 a year, liant, and his humor both masculine and del- to his widow. This father the child had icate. Yet with this singular combination scarcely ever seen. Business kept him conof gifts, he is comparatively little known stantly abroad; and the only means by which outside of that small circle of men who love he contrived to see his family at all was by literature for its own sake, which, in propor- meeting them occasionally at a wateringtion to the population, is not an increasing place, to which Thomas was considered too class. Of the causes which contributed to young to be taken. But Mr. De Quincey's this result, such as depended on his own death brought back another comparative character will develop themselves in the stranger to the family hearth, in the shape course of our remarks. Of the others, it is of the eldest boy, then about twelve years sufficient to point out these two, that he of age, who had been educated at Louth neither completed any one great work, nor Grammar School. The advent of this brother enjoyed the advantage of being represented precipitated De Quincey's “Introduction to by any great periodical ; a circumstance the world of strife,” an initiation which he which has sometimes given permanence and admits was not without considerable advanunity to a writer's reputation as effectively tage both to his moral and physical constias independent authorship. That his essays tution. His natural addiction to loneliness are not, in general, upon popular subjects, is and dreaming, combined with grief for his of course another element in the case ; al sisters' loss, was generating in him an unthough they only require to be read to show wholesome condition of both mind and body, how easily a man of genius can lubricate the which his brother's arrival rudely, but opporgravest topics by his own overflowing humor, tunely, dissipated. De Quincey says himwithout making the slightest approximation self, in reference to this period of his childto either flippancy or coarseness. As we hood, that he thanks Providence for four fancy, however, that even less is known of things~first, that he lived in a rustic solihis birth, parentage, and education, than of tude ; secondly, that the solitude was in his literary remains, we shall endeavor to England ; thirdly, that “his infant feelings make our sketch of him complete by pref- were moulded by the gentlest of sisters," acing our critical remarks with a brief memoir instead of “horrid pugilistic brothers ;” of his earlier career as far as it can be ex- finally, that he and they were members of tracted from the fragmentary materials which "a pure, holy, and magnificent church." he has left us.

But our readers must not suppose that De The subject of this article was born at Quincey had any real doubt about the para“ The Farm,” a country house occupied by mount utility of a public school education ; his father near Manchester, on the 15th of though at the age of six years “the whole August, 1785. But his earliest recollections world of strife,” as opened to him by his were of “Greenhays," a villa near the same elder brother, proved any thing but soothing town, where he was brought up in all the to his feelings. This brother seems, in all comfort and elegance of the household of an respects, to have been a remarkable boy. opulent English merchant. His family was He read lectures on physics to the rest of of Norwegian origin, but, as he assured the nursery. He endeavored to construct George III., had been in England since the an apparatus for walking across the ceiling Conquest. Thomas was the fifth of eight i like a fly, first on the principle of skates,



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and subsequently upon that of a humming- / broon, threatened, not remotely, with annes-
top. He was profound on the subject of ation, by the superior potentate his brother.
necromancy, and frequently terrified his “How, and to what extent,” my brother
young admirers by speculating on the pos- asked, “ did I raise taxes on my sub-
sibility of a general confederation of the jects ? ” At this question the model young
ghosts of all time against a single genera- prince was staggered. He abhorred taxa-
tion of men. He made 'a balloon; and tion of all kinds. But then he knew that,
wrote, and, in conjunction with his brothers if he said as much, his ambitious neighbor
and sisters, performed two acts of a tragedy, would jump to the conclusion that he had no
in which all the personages were beheaded standing army—an idea which he felt would
at the end of each act, leaving none to carry be fatal to his own independence. But though
on the play, a perplexity which ultimately he evaded this particular difficulty, a shock-
caused “Sultan Amurath” to be abandoned ing discovery was in store for him. In an
to the housemaids. In all these matters, evil hour his brother became acquainted
however, no especial burden was imposed on with Lord Monboddo's theory of the human
Thomas. It was first in his position as race; and be presently announced the fact
major-general of his brother's army, and that the inhabitants of Gombroon had not
secondly as absolute monarch of the king- yet worn off their tails. This was a hideous
dom of Gombroon, that he suffered the worst piece of intelligence. As absolute ruler,
terrors and anxieties. The two boys went Thomas might at once issue an edict com-
every morning to a private tutor's house pelling his people to sit down six hours
and returned in the afternoon, on one or every day, “and so make a beginning," or
both of which occasions a fight invariably he might dress them in the Roman toga, as
took place with the boys of a neighboring the best means of hiding their appendages.
factory, chiefly carried on with stones, and, But either alternative left the great fact un-
as it would appear from its bloodlessness, touched that he was king of a nation of
at a safe distance. These military opera- Caudati, and he continued plunged in the
tions were of course under the control of the profoundest melancholy throughout the re-
elder brother, who directed Thomas's move- mainder of his reign.
ments upon the flank, or rear of the enemy, At the expiration of two years his broth-
sometimes planting him in ambush and er's proficiency with his pencil caused him to
sometimes as a corps of observation, as the be transferred to the house of the celebrated
exigencies of the case required. Arriving academician, Mr. de Loutherbourg, where he
at home, he issued a bulletin of the engage- died of typhus fever at the age of sixteen.
ment, which was read with much ceremony Being no longer under the necessity of pro-
to the housekeeper. Sometimes this docu- tecting his subjects from the neighboring
ment announced a victory, and sometimes a potentate of Tigrosylvania, the monarch of
defeat; but the conduct of the major-gen- Gombroon laid aside his crown, and retired
eral was criticised without reference to the re- into private life. The ensuing four years,
sult. Now he was decorated with the Bath, i.e. from his eighth year to his twelfth, were
and now he was deprived of his commis- marked by no incidents particularly worthy
sion. At one time his services merited the of commemoration, except the removal of
highest promotion, at another he behaved his family from Greenhays to Bath, and his
with a cowardice “ that seemed inexplicable, own entrance at the Bath Grammar School.
except on the supposition of treachery.” Here he made numerous enemies by the su.
Once he was drummed out of the army, but periority of his Latin verses: and he was
“restored at the intercession of a distin- ultimately removed from the school, prima-
guished lady" (the housekeeper, to wit). In rily, indeed, in consequence of an accident,
these singular vicissitudes of fortune two but secondarily, because his mother was un-
whole years were passed ; but, extraordinary willing that he should hear so much of his
as is the air of reality which De Quincey own merits. From Bath he went to another
has thrown around this description, it is school, at Winkfield, in Wiltshire, which he
even less wonderful than the picture of his left in the spring of the year 1800, for the
own feelings as king of the island of Gom- purpose of accompanying a young friend of

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