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estimating his work, as well as of the gen- | publishing such a selection of English poetry as eral public to whom he looks for its pecuni- the present, was this, namely, whether Mr. Palary success. And this is not all. The grave's Golden Treasury had not so occupied compiler of such an anthology is forced, the ground that there was no room for one who since the range is so extensive, to restrict should come after. himself within clearly defined limits. If he with so exact an acquaintance with the sources wander too widely, he may fail from an ex-with so fine a taste in regard of what was worfrom which his Treasury was to be replenished, cess of freedom, and he will best accomplish his end by a resolute restraint.

thy to be admitted there, that this was the conclusion to which at the first I was disposed to arrive. Presently, however, I saw reason to change my mind. The volume which I meditated was on so different a scheme and plan from his, that while, no doubt, I should sometimes go over ground which he had gone over before, it was evident that for the most part our paths would be different and my choice not identical with his. This to so great an extent has proved the case, that of more than three hundred pieces which compose this volume, less than seventy how this should be. His is a Treasury of the have appeared in his, and it is easy to perceive Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language, and of these exclusively; but within this circle he proposes to include all which is of first-rate excellence in our language by authors not living. My scheme is at once broader and narrower; broader in that I limit myself to no particular class of poetry, and embrace the living and the dead alike; narrower in that I make no attempt to be exhaustive, or to give more than a very few samples even of the best and greatest of our poets.'

If proof be needed of the truth of these remarks, it will be found in the fact that of the scores of poetical selections extant, there are few that from a literary point of view can be deemed of value, and of these the scheme of the collector has in every instance been carefully restricted. Charles Lamb's Specimens of English Dramatic Poets, and Leigh Hunt's Selections from Beaumont and Fletcher have taken an independent and, we believe, a permanent place in our literature, a position due in great measure to the choice criticism with which these charming writers have enlivened their volumes, but due perhaps even yet more to a clearly defined and carefully fulfilled intention. And in this respect it is impossible to exaggerate the merits of Mr. Palgrave's Golden Treasury. That precious little volume, which deserves a place in the smallest library, and in the pocket or portmanteau of every traveller, is specially remarkable for the wise principles of selection on which it is based. A critic of the highest order, with a taste that is rarely at fault, and an enthusiasm sufficiently tempered with discretion, Mr. Palgrave has not only brought together the rarest gems of English lyric poetry, but he has done this so as to add an historical interest to the poetical value" that I have considered what I bring forof the book. He has linked one age of our literature to another, in rhythmical harmony, showing how the poetry of different eras possesses a lyrical unity, the poets a family likeness, and he has done all this not by didactic precepts, but by the choicest illustrations of the art. We suppose the Golden Treasury must be termed a compilation, but it is a compilation that possesses many of the marks of a fine original work -high culture, critical insight, breadth of knowledge, and comprehensive taste.

The Archbishop adds, in justification of the work, that many poems included in almost all collections will be looked for in vain in this, while not a few which, so far as he knows, none have included, have found room in it. "It is not always," he says,

ward better than what to make place for it I set aside; but where I have only considered it as good, it has seemed a real gain to put new treasures within the reach of those who are little able, or if able are little likely, to go and discover such for themselves."

That the compiler has not entered upon his work without reasonable grounds is fully made out by the preface; but the best justification of this household book will be found in its contents. The range, as in the contents of the Golden Treasury, covers With such a rival in the field as Mr. Pal- three centuries; but, unlike that volume, grave, it may, perhaps, appear strange that this collection includes the poems of living Archbishop Trench should venture to pro-writers. So that while the book opens duce a household book of English poetry, with Sylvester, Spenser, and Ben Jonson, and conscious that such an objection might it closes with Tennyson and Browning, be urged, he has anticipated it in the pref

ace:

"The first question which I asked myself [he says] when I resumed a purpose long ago entertained, and then for a long while laid aside, of

with Walt Whitman and Buchanan.

Notwithstanding the merits of this "Household Book," we do not anticipate for it the praise and popularity accorded to Mr. Palgrave's collection. Of the 288 poems in the Golden Treasury there is

same eyes. Suffice it that, on the whole, the book is worthily compiled, and that it has a character of its own which marks it off with evident distinctness from other collections of English poetry.

scarcely one which is not marked by mel- | for it is not to be expected that a collector ody of language, or felicity of poetic of poems and the reviewer of the poems colthought, by lofty imagination, or graceful lected should in all instances see with the fancy; by some of those qualities, in short, which distinguish the song, however humble, of the true poet from the brilliant exercises of the versifier. A man may express noble thoughts in irreproachable metre without being a poet, but such thoughts might have been uttered as well, if not better, in prose; whereas, the thought which is essentially poetical cannot be said, but must of necessity be sung. The spirit of Archbishop Trench's collection is didactic rather than lyrical, and we think that in many instances the compiler has shown more regard to force of language or to a quaint originality of thought, than to those characteristics which belong to the poet, and to the poet alone.

Many familiar names and others less known, but almost equally worthy, are omitted from this anthology. Among the earlier poets no place is found for Daniel, for Browne of the Pastorals, or for the two Fletchers, Phineas and Giles; among the later poets we miss Shenstone, Goldsmith, Crabbe, Hemans, Praed, Rogers, and others. Again, while several notable poets are but slightly represented,- Pope, Cowper, Southey, and Mrs. Browning, for example, others, like William Drummond, William Blake the poet-artist, Hartley Coleridge, and David Gray are lavishly cared for. Indeed, Archbishop Trench, as already intimated, has aimed at novelty, and there are few poetry lovers who will not find in this volume some sweets hitherto

which was published in a modern shape by Pickering about twenty years ago, contains, with not a few verses crude and fantastical, much sacred poetry of the highest order, and some written with a graceful freedom that the reader fresh from the quaint and often grotesque verses of Herbert cannot fail to appreciate. Another poet of the same period, who receives from the compiler a due meed of praise, is Charles Cotton,

The pithy distichs of Barten Holyday, for instance, would well deserve insertion in a selection of epigrammatic sayings, but appear inappropriate in a volume of household poetry. Quite out of place, too, as it seems to us, in such a selection are such poems as "The Soul's Errand," by an anon-untasted. ymous writer, or "The World's FallaWe are glad to see, by the way, that due cies," by Quarles, which seems to have been praise is given to Henry Vaughan, whose suggested by it, or the "Hymn for Ad- poetic store has been conspicuously rifled vent," by Jeremy Taylor, most impotent of by at least one modern poet. Vaughan acwriters in verse, most eloquent in prose! knowledged Herbert as his master, but we or "The Valediction," by good Richard agree with Archbishop Trench in a preferBaxter, who also became crippled and ster-ence for the pupil. The Silex Scintillans, ile when he affected metre. Moreover, except from association, the lines of Charles I., "A Royal Lamentation," greatly abridged in the collection, have no interest whatever, and the rather long and anonymous poem entitled "Loyalty Confined" has not even this merit. We might also take objection to some pieces inserted in this volume composed by men of conspicuous ability, but who wrote verse as Warren Hastings wrote it, for relaxation, and wrote it ill, were it not that Archbishop Trench defends their introduction on the ground that poems from such authors" must always have a special interest for us." We do not question the interest, but we maintain that it is of a scarcely legitimate character. Because these men have done badly or even moderately well what they had better not have done at all, it does not follow that their efforts, however curious, should be stereotyped in an anthology. If Mr. Tennyson were to produce a volume of sermons no doubt intense interest would be excited, but it does not follow that a place ought to be found for the poet's theology in a body of English divinity.

These, however, are matters of opinion,

hearty, cheerful Mr. Cotton,” as Lamb calls him,-whose poems, although praised by Wordsworth and Coleridge, are read by few :

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They are sometimes prosaic [says the Archbishop], sometimes blemished by more serious faults, but for homely vigour and purity of language, for the total absence of any attempt to nation by a false poetic diction, purple rags conceal the deficiency of strong and high imagitorn from other men's garments, and sewn upon his own, he may take his place among the foremost masters of the tongue."

We are glad, too, to find here the best illustrations of the genius of Davenant and Sylvester both true poets, and both comparatively unknown. Sylvester was born

several years earlier than Herbert, and as
a proof that what we consider quaintness
was not the natural product of the age, we
may quote his brief poem upon "Content."
which has the ring of some verses on the
same subject conceived more recently.
One stanza is omitted for the sake of
brevity:-

"I weigh not fortune's frown or smile;
I joy not much in earthly joys;
I seek not state, I soek not style;

I am not fond of fancy's toys;
I rest so pleased with what I have,
I wish no more, no more I crave.

I quake not at the thunder's crack;
I tremble not at noise of war;

I swound not at the news of wrack;
I shrink not at a blazing star;

I fear not loss, I hope not gain;
I envy none, I none disdain.

I feign not friendship where I hate;
I fawn not on the great in show;
I prize, I praise a mean estate-
Neither too lofty nor too low;
This, this is all my choice, my cheer-
A mind content, a conscience clear."

There is so much in this admirable collection suggestive of criticism that we are tempted to add to these remarks; but enough has been said perhaps to show the character of the volume; and if this has been done, any further comment is superfluous. Henceforth the Household Book of English Poetry should be placed on the same shelf which contains the Golden Treasury. The charm and worth of the one will be best appreciated by a knowledge of the other also.

British Quarterly Review.

MR. JOHN STUART MILL. The list of works | both personally and as a thinker, has found for which stands at the head of this article will suffi- itself a most honourable and well-deserved exciently demonstrate to our readers that Mr. Mill pression in his election for Westminster, a posihas not been an idle man; and the numerous tion which we trust he will be long spared to editions through which many of them have gone enjoy. Men of his independent, wide, subtle will show that his labours have met with more cast of thought are absolutely needed in the than an ordinary degree of appreciation. And senate of our land-not merely because of the when we consider that the subjects discussed by light that they can contribute in the discussion Mr. Mill are neither attractive in themselves, of national questions, but also of the light they nor popular in their treatment, his success is all themselves can derive for the correction of theothe more remarkable and gratifying. The vo- retic and one-sided conclusions of their own, racity of the public for novels, and for any spe- and which are simply what have been termed cies of literature which reduces the necessity for "idols of the cave." Already, unless we are thinking to a minimum, is not one of the favour-mistaken, Mr. Mill has received some little benable signs of our times; but it is no insignificant efit in this way, in exchange for the benefit he set-off to this indolent and emasculated condition has undoubtedly conferred. of the general mind of our nation that works of such sterling worth and merit as many of those which have emanated from the pen of Mr. Mill, on matters, too, of such confessed difficulty, should have attained so wide a circulation. Two FISH IN BRITISH COLUMBIA. - A remarkable volumes on logic, in the sixth edition; two on feature in British Columbia is the abundance of political economy, in the sixth edition; and fish, and of salmon particularly. Salmon swarm others on subjects almost equally recondite, in in such numbers that, according to Mr. Lord, the second and third editions, reveal a healthy naturalist to the Boundary Commission, every substratum of intellectual energy in the nation rivulet is so crammed that from want of room which gives us good hope for the future. And they push one another high and dry upon the we say this irrespective altogether of the intrin- pebbles. Each with its head up stream scuffles sic merits of Mr. Mill's speculations, of which for precedence. With one's hands only, tons of we hold many to be true, and as many to be salmon might be procured. Once started on questionable, if not palpably erroneous. For their journey, these fish never turn back. As the disposition to study and master problems so fast as those in front die, fresh arrivals take abstruse as those with which Mr. Mill chiefly their place and share their fate. For two months concerns himself shows that there is a number, this great salmon army proceeds up stream, furand that by no means insignificant, of persons nishing food without which the Indians must who desire to know something more than that perish miserably. For six months in the year bread-and-butter philosophy which has been they depend on the salmon which they obtain in supposed to have a supreme and even exclusive June and July, and preserve by drying in the charm in the eyes of Englishmen. The admira- sun. tion which Mr. Mill has awakened for himself,

The Canadian News.

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FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS; BEING AN ATTEMPT TO TRACE TO THEIR SOURCE PASSAGES AND PHRASES IN COMMON USE. By JOHN BARTLETT. Fifth Edition. Boston: Little, Brown, & Co.

PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION AT THIS OFFICE:

A HOUSE OF CARDS.

THE BRAMLEIGHS OF BISHOP'S FOLLY, by CHARLES LEVER.
OCCUPATIONS OF A RETIRED LIFE, by EDWARD GARRETT.
PHINEAS FINN, THE IRISH MEMBER, by MR. TROLLOPE.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY

LITTELL & GAY, BOSTON.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year, nor where we have to pay commission for forwarding the money.

Price of the First Series, in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars.

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Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expense of the publishers.

PREMIUMS FOR CLUBS.

For 5 new subscribers ($40.), a sixth copy; or a set of HORNE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, unabridged, in 4 large volumes, cloth, price $10; or any 5 of the back volumes of the LIVING AGE, in numbers, price $10.

From The Dublin University Magazine.

LIFE'S VOYAGE.

THE sun shines in the eastern sky,
On the sea its splendour pours,
And a ship is sailing into sight,

And it comes from distant shores.

Sweet music make the flapping sails,

As into port it steers,

And from the shore, the pleasant sound, A welcoming of cheers.

A little life is welcomed in

A bark from unknown shores; Upon the world it casts its freight Of precious goods and stores.

Sweet music make the welcome words

"To thee a child is given.'

We hail it, as the ship is hailed,

A blessing sent from heaven.

The sun sinks in the western sky,

The evening faints in night,

As the ship sails out to the unknown seas,
And soon is lost to sight.

Sad music make the flapping sails,
As sea-ward far it steers,

And dimly faint the shadowy masts,
Seen through a mist of tears.

A weary life goes sinking out,

And it drifts to a distant sea,

And its goal is the everlasting shores
Of wide eternity.

A voyage made by ships and men
Across an ocean vast-

The goods and ills of life and death,
The future and the past.

L. C.

From The Churchman's Family Magazine.

HYMN

FOR THE OPENING OF A NEW CHURCH.

ALMIGHTY Ruler of the world,

Whose throne is heaven, whose footstool earth, Whose word the night of chaos furled,

Who spake and nature sprang to birth;

O from Thy seat of glory bend,

And with a kind, all-gracious ear, Our humble pray'rs and praise attend, And manifest Thy presence here.

Vast as is heaven's unknown embrace,
Thy glory wider bounds demands;
And canst Thou condescend to grace,

A temple reared by mortal hands?
Thou canst! for Thou didst stoop to take
A human form, the cross to bear,
That Thou might'st fallen creatures make
With Thee immortal life to share.

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