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of a body of three hundred gentlemen sitting is one to which I am greatly attached. But I in Dublin. This point is surrounded by legal want to procure impeachments of the Judges difficulties, and must be approached with se- 1 of the Court of Queen's Bench and of rious considerations, which we were last year her Majesty's Attorney-General in this counprevented from applying to it by the procla- try, on these grounds-(Great app!ause for mation and subsequent proceedings. My some moments)-on these grounds, which I plan, which I have deeply considered, is short- shall set before you as briefly as I can conly this-that three hundred gentlemen from sistently with clearness. The first ground is the various counties in Ireland should neet on that of the monster indictment which was prea certain day in Dublin, and that their title to ferred against me—thirty-six yards of an inmeet should be the handing in of 100l. each; dictment? Lord Denman has well described that they should have a treasurer of their own, it as a document calculated to prevent a man and have the working of their own funds. I from defending himself. Such an indictment do not intend that they shall initiate anything, no poor man could escape from. We were but that they shall control everything; and backed by the Repeal rent; but if such an inthat the Repeal Association shall be complete- dictment were preferred against a poor man, ly governed by them, and not venture upon where could he get a brief of it for his counsel any act without their previous sanction. A Why, it would cost him ten times more money body of this kind would comprise so many of than ever he saw, to do so. My excellent the wealthy and influential of Ireland, that it friend, Richard O'Gorman (the dissentient would be an effectual check to any rash revo- Grand Juror), ought to be a proud man this lutionary outbreak, and would be a steady day. He alone was right as to this unjust indrag upon the wheel of the movement. It dictment, and had the manliness and honesty would be of that bearing on society and bigh to maintain his opinion in open court. He station, that it could enter into treaty with said, We have spent five days over this bill, Government. It could arrange its own plans and not one of us can understand it.' To be with Ministers, and stipulate terms ; no hand- sure they did not care much for that. (Groans.) over-hand work, but steady, deliberate agree. They found it a true bill. I am much obliged ment. And here let me say, that I quite agree to them. Now, this is no idle act of the Atin making the experiment of a Federal Parlia- torney-General. Sugden planned it; Peel ment. I want any Parliament which will pro- has adopted it. (Groans and hisses.) Imtect Ireland, and ask for no more. If we ar- peachment, I say then, is our only remedy. rive at the period of Repeal without some body (Loud cheers.) No man is safe from such a of this description, Government may dictate a monster indiciment. What ought the Court plan to you, perhaps, which may fall short of to have done with it? I say, an honest Court justice, though it satisfy some of you. They can should have quashed it again and again, if nenever do so with this Preservative Society of cessary; and have said to the Attorney-Genthree hundred. The terms of any treaty must eral, in the words of Lord Denman,' Pick out be well considered-financial as well as poli- your counts, and do not suffocate them beneath tical; and it seems to me that we shall here the number of your accusations. The Judges have the workmen to build up the palace of|of the Court of Queen's Bench did not refuse justice to Ireland. I will this day week move to receive it: nay, more, they countenanced for a select committee to consider the possibil- it; and, proceeding as they commenced, reity of such an assemblage, and to prepare ca fused us copies of the witnesses' names, the ses to have laid before the most eminent law- caption of the indictment, and other privileges yers of England and Ireland. We will take which we should have received as a matter of care not to bring a single individual within the course in England. By their conduct they power of the law; and we will see whether we made this monster indictment a babe of their cannot get a second managing body for the own luck; and I say there is no use whatever people—not a House of Lords, indeed, but a in the doctrine of impeachments if we have not body possessing more power, as representing the Judges of the Queen's Dench brought bethe whole Irish people. Three hundred weal- fore a proper tribunal to answer for their conthy Irish gentlemen would make such a body duct. I assert this, and I shall be able to prove as would bring about the repeal of the Union it by competent witnesses, that the Lord Chief with the greatest ease. I ani not a person of Justice had the air of a counsel for the proseoverweening confidence in my own judgment, culion throughout the trials, and might have but I have so matured this plan in my own been taken for such, but for the place he occumind, whilst in prison, that l rely strongly on pied. It may be said I am rash in taking this it, although prepared to abandon it on the in- up. Ah! I do not fear their prisons. Trestant if found to be at all dangerous or imprao- mendous cheering.) I am a free-born British ticable, whilst it njust be embraced il sound subject, standing in this place defending my calculated to bring back our Parliament to rights; and I do accuse those men of injustice. College Green. I have addressed you at I am here to call upon the people of England great length, but I owed you for three months to aid me in impeaching those men.” (Cheerrent. (Much cheering and laughter.) I am ing.) pow, like an honest man, paying my debts.

• And now I come to my third plan, and it

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BY CALDER CAMPBELL.

FEAST OF THE POETS FOR SEPTEMBER 1844.

From Tait's Magazine.
PART III.

While we scamper'd o'er the braes,

Where the sheep turned out to graze
POETRY OF THE AFFECTIONS.

In the Autumn morn-
THE BUSH OF SOUTHERNWOOD.

Skone like snow, we'd pause to pick
Wild flowers, berries black and thick,

Spite of gorse and thorn;
Sunny is life's path at first,

And returning, red of lip,
When the flowers Romance hath nurs't

Freighted well with haw and hip,
With Hope's early dews,

Sought the green trees in the garden,
Cluster round us thick and fair,

Round that Bush of Southernwood.
Shedding fragrance on the air

Sometimes, too, the seaward track
From a hundred hues :

Tempted us—though fast the rack
Dearer then, to me, than all

Scudded overhead-
The brightest gems in Flora's hall,

To search the shore for weeds and shells,
In my father's humble garden

Or loiter 'midst the heather-bells,
Was one Bush of Southernwood !

Scaring from moss-beds
But no sooner doth life's track

Panting hares that, through the night,
Leave youth's glowing shores for black

Pilfer'd salads, fresh and white,
And bitter manhood's sea,

From that fruitful Scottish garden,
Than earth turneth dark and bare ;-

With its Bush of Southernwood.
So with me it led to where

Often, too, with reckless glee,
Few sunny things there be;

Garments kilted to the knee,
Yet still, with mem'ry's eye I view'd-

'Mid the wave-wet sands-
Dearer for its solitude-

Shoes and stockings cast aside,
In that northern Scottish garden

Waded we, none nigh to chide-
One dear Bush of Southernwood.

Gathering with glad hands
Now, when downwards bends life's road Cockles, lurking 'neath green weed,
I too bending 'neath the load

Muscles, 'mid the rocks that breed,
Age and sorrow lend-

Far from that humble garden,
Stormy gloom that path besets ;

And its Bush of Southernwood.
And for Hope's gay coronets,

Happy, happy days of youth,
Thorns with sad thoughts blend;

When there was no dark untruth,
While I know that, distant far,

Sorrow, sin, nor shame !
New hearts, new hands, new faces are,

When my gentle mother's look
In my dead old father's garden

Was too me a loveful book,
Near that Bush of Southernwood.

Where I read no blame;
Oh, how oft will fancy Alee

And my eldest sister's smile

Lured me homeward many a mile,
To those merry days, when we
In that garden play'd !

To our father's simple garden,

With its Bush of Southernwood. Then my sisters twain were there“ Dimpled cheek,” and “golden hair,”

Oh! the dear flowers of that place!
Laughing lips that made

Now I see them fill the space
Merriment whene'er they smiled :-

Which they filled of yore;
Happy was I, as a child,

Honeysuckles here and there,
In Ardersier's dear garden

Sweetbriar, wallflower, every where,
With its Busb of Southernwood !

Mignonette, rich store,
Brothers, too, would sometimes come

Columbine of every hue,
To fill our little sitting-room

Orange turk's-cap, monk's hood blue-
With loud jest and glee;

All in my father's garden,
Kinsmen flocking from all parts,

Nexi that Bush of Southernwood.
With clasping hands and bounding hearts, Primroses by ranks and rows,
There would gather'd be ;

Marigold, a flower that grows
For they loved to fare a-field,

Freely, where you will;
Where the blithsome reapers wield

Beds of healthful chamomile,
Their sickles near that garden,

Hyssop, mint, and that wile
And its bush of Southernwood.

Bees with natural skill;

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Costmary, and roses many,

The Patriot-look, the ever-playing smiles, Peonies, and, dear as any

The thoughts inspir’d, and language of the In, ah! that old Manse-garden,

skies. That one Bush of Southernwood.

Yea, proud was I to worship at thy feet, Shall I never wander more

Gamaliel, Poet-father, Fancy's guide; Where I sowed such ample store

A critic thou, enthron'd on highest seat
Of those simple flowers ?

A Poet placed by Shakspeare's, Milton's side.
Shall the rich laburnums shed
Golden bunches on my head,

In prose, or honey'd verse alike a king, 'Mid those hawthorn bowers?

Renown'd in Grecian, as in Roman glory, Shall the lilacs give their bloom

Thou, eagle-like, couldst soar, or lark-like sing,
And their gentle soft perfume

Now crown'd immortally in British story.
To the walks of that old garden,
With its Bush of Southernwood. He is not dead ! O, say he is not dead !

“ Fair Wyoming" records to endless time Strange masters now are there ;

The Poet's fame, and binds his laurel'd head;
New halls, new walls, new hedges fair,
Near that parsonage -

“By Susquehanna's shore” he stands sublime. Father, mother, sister, brothers,

He is not dead! the Paradise of Hope Graves for them, and for dear others,

Blooms with victorious garlands, heavenly Rise upon the page

flowers, Of certainty :-and now 'twould be

With fresh delight shall future poets ope
A task as sore as death to me
To visit that loved garden

Each page inspired among the summer bowers.
And its Bush of Southernwood !

He is not dead! old England's Mariners

Shall own the heart-quake, and the shouts of
LINES

Red Linden quiver to his martial airs,
ON THE DEATH OF THOMAS CAMPBELL, AUTHOR OF Nile, Copenhagen, tremble from afar !

THE “PLEASURES OF HOPE,” AND “GERTRUDE
OF WYOMING.

He is not dead! wbilst Poland is alive

And Poland's heart still leaps to LibertyEY JOHN WALKER ORD.

In Poland's blood-stained annals he shall live “ And Campbell's epitaph shall be,

A meteor-light in Freedom's cloudless sky.
Sparta possessed no worthier son than he.”
Bard and Minor Poens.

He is not dead! whilst Scotland's mountains Another lighr hath faded from the sky,

stand, Another flower hath vanish'd from the earth;

Loch Awe, Loch Katrine glow with burnish'd Hot tear-drops fill each sympathizing eye

gold,

His name shall hover star-like o'er the land, For him, the pearl of genius, wit, and worth.

Link'd with her Burns,-her proudest sons of

old ! Ten years, ten weary years have glided o'er When first this faithful hand rehearsed his

Her woodlands sball lament him,-the deep grore praise, Since then the Bard of Ettrick is no more,

Is musical with songs of lyre and lute, Sweet Coleridge, Southey, circled with his All her broad forests murmur notes of love, bays:

At his rich voice the nightingale is mute. And Campbell !—from the blue hills of Argyle

Her streams hear " music sweeter than their Each forest, and deep glen, and misty vale,

Own," From every mountain, continent, and isle

Stars in their spheres, a melody more sweet Shall ring the loud lament, the bitter wail.

Angels might listen to each heavenly tone

And earthly lovers holier raptures greet. How large that soul! how poble was the man ! What glorious visions kindled in his brain :

And when he died, the nobles of the land, Like sunlit waves each beauteous image ran,

They who derided or had scorn'd his lot, Bright, rainbow-hued, as drops of April rain,

Clasp'd round bis corpse, who had refus'd bis

hand, " From grave to gay, from lively to severe,”

And crowded to that consecrated spot. He stalk'd, or sported, merry or sedate,

Immortal ever! more immortal yet, Now as a Fairy's song he charm’d the ear,

Wben Kasciusko's dust was mix'd with thine : Now as a Titan was he fierce and great.

O, proudly would the poet's heart have beat

In foretaste of a union so divine ! 0, how divinely tripp'd the joyous hours,

Those festive moments, that harmonious glee, What Protean colors gleamed through Fancy's Farewell, true poet-most beloved friendbowers,

Accept this earthly offering in the skies; What heavenly hues adorn'd Philosophy!

To the bright mansions let this tribute wend.

With heart-wrung tears, and agonizing sigbs. I see him now! the orb'd majestic head,

The polish'd brow, the Phidian nose, blue eyes. Gally Hill Farm, Cleveland, 1844,

BY CALDER CAMPBELL.

CAMPBELL'S FUNERAL.

A MOTHER'S WAIL AFTER THE BAT

TLE. LINES WRITTEN IN POET'S CORNER, WESTMINSTER,

JULY 4, 1844. BY A LADY. From east and south the ripen'd noonday sun Oh! gentle moonlight, rest upon our fieldsOn each carv'd stone and aisle doth quaintly Oh! peaceful moonlight ! leave to light our lie

shields, All tints from out the casement blend in one That all too long have boldly braved the sun; Broad sanguine dye.

Oh! soft nocturnal sky, oh! starry sky,

Weep thy sweet tears where our slain warrions Behind, before, above, about, around,

lje On priest, on poet, on the funeral pall,

Their gallant race is run!
On tomb, on altar, on the hallow'd ground,
This type of Faith doth fall.

Oh! black and dismal grove, oh! sombre grove,

Where buried lie the children of my love, Like as it hung above the mortal fight

With songs of gleeful birds no longer ring; Of Naseby, or Dunbar; or shone upon

Let wild and wailing strains fall on the earThat field of Poland, where the cause of Right A mother's dirge for all her heart held dear Made it a second Marathon.

From thy dim alleys spring! Shrining this Poet, who by tongue and pen

Oh, sunny summer's heat, oh! pew-come heat Laughed at the little hour of tyrant laws;

Thou hast returned and with thee peace, whose Who pleaded for oppress'd and noble men,

seat Great Kosciusko's cause.

So long had war usurped; thou bring'st any

frame Hark! they come onward with firm even tread, Nor warmth, nor strength, nor hope ; for ak! Like men who know the hallow'd dust they from life bear;

My two brave boys have passed, 'mid cruel strifo, Some few redeeming tears, perchance, are shed, And they my spirit claim !

But those not of despair.
For not the tree is blasted, but the leaf
Has sear'd and fallen in its winter time :

PART IV.
The fruit is garner'd, and the drooping sheaf
Has shed its golden prime.

MISCELLANEOUS.
The dust around is sentient, and the air

ADDRESS TO SOME BEAUTIFUL SEA. Is glorious with the spirits of the brave,

SHELLS LEFT BY THE TIDE,
Who hover o'er the bier with gentle care,
And guard the narrow grave.

Hail! bright shells of an ocean home!
The drooping wateher in his fancy sees,

Freshly borne through light and foam :
Not the dark grave, but thou, sweet Wyoming, Hail: to your sea-tone, wild and free,
With mossied hillocks, and o'erarching trees As music, fairy strains should be.
In Susquehanna bending.

Your wave-worn crust, and purple curl

Rival the ruby, and vie with the pearl. The kneeling chieftain sees on Warsaw's plain There's lustre in each couch-curved aisle, Thy real grave by Kosciusko's side,

As rich as the light of beauty's smile ; Wrapp'd in the sacred banner of the slain And wonders ye are, come how ye may, In pomp and warrior pride.

In the breaker's whirl, or the wavelet's spray.
The prayers of men and angels are as one
As on thy corse, with reverend hand, they

Are
ye

the homes where the nereid dwells, The sacred dust of Poland's noblest son,

Or have tritons sported in your cells? Mingling the Brave and True.

Say, were ye washed from the merman's halls,

Crystal grots, or coral walls ? Instead of anthem or lamenting dirge

Have ye been where the grampus rolled, “ Ye mariners of England” steals along,

Or icebergs shone like burning gold ? Whilst to the Fancy's ear the ocean's surge

Sprung ye from enchanted caves, Makes musical the song.

Fathoms below the noisy waves;

Or kept ye watch in the sunless deep, The good achiev'd on earth by one so just

Where the wreck'd ones slept their lasting sleep? Falls on the heart like prayer in this sad hour, Teaching that truth springs upwards froin our dust, Tbat mind is real power.

No matter the office ye've held, or where

Heaven formed you, and pronounced you fair! Whilst Britons hold dominion of the sea,

Had ye moved with the jewel or gem, Whilst they deserve the glory of their fame, Whai brighter had been your gleam througle One word shall nerve the weak and prompt the them! free

And tbe mellow tread of sea-nymphs' feet, 'Tis Campbell's name !

Were vain to make your song more sweet.

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Beautiful shells ! of the dark blue wave,

“ But, si nce its angel's choral note Floating o'er shingles, or flushing in cave;

First swell’d the universal hymn, Ye're the fairest in form, and the purest in tone, Strange things have marr'd bis melody, That Neptune may boast of, or ocean may own. And scared the void with aspects dim.

H. R. B.

“ Thy earthly orb, six thousand times

Has wbeeld around its central fire,
THE STAR AND THE ANGEL.

Since shudderings ran through boundless space, I mused upon the silent stars,

And shrieks from every angel choir.
One eve, when glory out was welling
From all the founts of light, and long'd

“ And twice a thousand cycles past In one fair orb to fix my dwelling.

Of earthly revolution-rollid

A wilder shriek, as though the knell A modest star, not wildly bright,

Of Time, and stars, and space, had toll'a." In its own calm blue field alone;

It scarce had ceased when swell'd a note
For quiet, holy, happy thought,
An Eden of the stars it shone.

Of joy, beyond the loudest tone

That e'er the universal barp.
Its ray, a beam of holy love,

Has pealid around Jehovah's throne.
Was imaged in the fount within
Of feeling-to its own bright source,

That ecstasy of joy and pain
In deep serenity, akin.

So fill'd the mansions of the sky,

As made thy speck of solar light
To that fair orb my soul was knit

The marvel of infinity.
By sympathy's mysterious spell,
And long'd to pass the gates of life,

And ever since, when systems fade,
O er all to roam, but there to dwell.

And star by star in darkness dies,

Their angels cleave the depth of space,
I mused upon its distance vast,

To scan the solar mysteries.
Its peopled planets, glorious sky:
The myriad life its radiance warm’d,

To this lone planet isle they bend
Its origin and destiny.

Their eager wing and wistful gaze;

For here the springs of wonder lie,
A sudden shade obscured its ray,

Here spread the fields of long amaze;
A form of dread yet lovely might
Before my eyes, colossal stood,

And here, when change o'er all shall sweep, And dimm'd, not veil'd, the trembling light.

Eternity shall still behold

Myself and brother angels kneel, And thus he spoke in mournful tones :

Where God was wrapt in mortal mould.

G. P. “Thy eyes have drunk the glorious beam That left, a thousand years ago, Of light an overflowing stream.

SONNET TO THOMAS CARLYLE, * I was the angel of that star,

ON READING HIS “ PAST AND PRESENT," AND With twice ten planets round it rollid,

« HEROES AND HERO WORSHIP. A system fair as ever famed Mid night's unnumber'd spheres of gold. The beacon sign-light storms and tempests braves,

And, from the distance high, streains forth its “ A million years its stately march

Jight Through the wide infinite it kept;

In scintillations through the haze of night, Around the central depths of space,

Warning where evil, hid beneath the waves, With all the host of heaven it swept. Holds direful watch within her rocky caves,

To crush the ribs of ships, and shipmen's " Its planets teem'd with myriad life,

might, Whose beings, generations, Time

And sailors' thrilling hopes of home to blight, Had oft renew'd as oft decay'd,

And whelm them down into her deep sea-graves : While sped the star its course sublime.

So Carlyle, shining o'er the gloomy way,

The dull, drear realms of Sham, that surges o'er " Its eycle round the centre past,

Men's sunken hearts and souls with hollow roar, 'Twas girt with bright consuming flame Tow'ring, and streaming forth, the red light ray Vanish’d, nor left within the sky

Of thy bold genius warns of dangars dark,
A relie of its wondrous frame.

That fearfully surround the social barque.
Mile End.

H. B. # And still a thousand years shall wing

Their flight before the latest ray That left its orb, a parting smile,

SONNET. On earth at midnight hour shall play.

THE WIND AND THE LEAF ; OR, ELOPEu Upon its orbit's utmost verge,

MENT.
It seems but yesterday, when I
Beheld thy system's earliest light,

0, listen, Ladies, and I'll tell you

brief And hail'd its giant infancy.

A touching tale, and true as history

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