That yearly teeming flocks were not,
Nor manifold producing earth:
No wilding growths of fruit and flower,
Cultured to beautiful and good;

No creatures for the arm of power

To take and tame from waste and wood!

"That all men to their mortal rest

Past shadow-like, and left behind
No free result, no dear bequest,

Won by their work of hand or mind!
That ev'ry separate life begun,

A present to the past unbound,

A lonely, independent One,

Sprung from the cold mechanic ground!
"What would the record of the past,
The vision of the future be?
Nature unchanged from first to last,
And base the best humanity:
For in these gifts lies all the space

Between our England's noblest men,
And the most vile Australian race
Outprowling from their bushy den.
"Then freely, as from age to age
Descending generations bear
The accumulated heritage

Of friendly and parental care,-
Freely as nature tends her wealth
Of air and fire, of sea and land,
Of childhood's happiness and health,
So freely open you your hand!
"Between you and your best intent
Necessity her brazen bar
Will often interpose, as sent

Your pure benevolence to mar:

Still every gentle word has

sway

To teach the pauper's desperate mood, That misery shall not take away Franchise of human brotherhood.

"And if this lesson come too late,

Wo to the rich, and poor, and all! The maddened outcast of the gate Plunders and murders in the hall; Justice can crush and hold in awe, While Hope in social order reigns,— But if the myriads break the law,

They break it as a slave his chains!”

The following, extracted from a series which bears the name of "Love Thoughts," is altogether worthy of our older love-poets.

"Dream no more that grief and pain
Could such hearts as ours enchain,
Safe from loss and safe from gain,
Free, as love makes free.

"When false friends pass coldly by,
Sigh, in earnest pity sigh,
Turning thine unclouded eye
Up from them to me.

"Hear not danger's trampling feet,
Feel not sorrow's wintry sleet;
Trust that life is just and meet,
With mine arm round thee.

"Lip on lip, and eye to eye,
Love to love, we live, we die;
No more thou and no more I,
We and only we!"

The execution of the following poem is hardly equal to its design. But there is eloquent wisdom in the concluding part of it; and the wisdom, fortunately for Mr. Milnes, does not depend on the historical truths. There are many poems in one of his earlier volumes, which show that he cannot be trusted on Venetian ground.

66 NAPLES AND VENICE.

"Overlooking, overhearing, Naples and her subject bay, Stands Camaldoli, the convent, shaded from the inclement ray. "Thou who to that lofty terrace lov'st on summer-eve to go, Tell me, poet, what thou seest,-what thou hearest, there below! "Beauty, beauty, perfect beauty! sea and city, hills and air, Rather blest imaginations than realities of fair.

"Forms of grace alike contenting, casual glance and stedfast gaze, Tender lights of pearl and opal mingling with the diamond blaze. "Sea is but as deepen'd æther; white as snow-wreaths sun-beshone; Lean the palaces and temples, green and purple heights upon. "Streets and paths mine eye is tracing, all replete with clamorous throng,

Where I see and where I see not, waves of uproar roll along.

"As the sense of bees unnumbered, burning through the walk of

limes,

As the thought of armies gathering round a chief in ancient times,―

"So from corso, port, and gardens, rises life's tumultuous strain, Not secure from wildest utterance rests the perfect crystal main. "Still the all-enclosing beauty keeps my spirit free from harm,Distance blends the veriest discords into some melodious charm. "Overlooking, overhearing, Venice and her sister isles

Stands the giant Campanile, massive 'mid a thousand piles. "Thou who to this open summit lovs't at ev'ry hour to go, Tell me, poet, what thou seest, what thou hearest, there below. "Wonder, wonder, perfect wonder! ocean is the city's moat; On the bosom of broad ocean seems the mighty weight to float. "Seems, yet stands, as strong and stable as on land e'er city shall; Only moves that ocean-serpent, tide-impelled, the Great Canal. "Rich arcades and statued pillars, gleaming banners, burnisht domes,

Ships approaching,-ships departing,-countless ships in har

bour-homes.

"Yet so silent! scarce a murmur winged to reach this airy seat; Hardly from the close Piazza rises sound of voice or feet; "Plash of oar or single laughter,-cry or song of gondolier,Signals far between to tell me that the work of life is here. "Like a glorious maiden dreaming music in the drowsy heat, Lies the city, unbetokening when its myriad pulses beat. "And I think myself in cloud-land, almost try my power of will, Whether I can change the picture, or it must be Venice still. "When the question wakes within me, which hath won the crown of deed,

Venice with her moveless silence, Naples with her noisy speed. "Which hath writ the goodlier tablet for the past to hoard and show,

Venice in her student stillness, Naples in her living glow? "Here are chronicles with virtues studded as the night with stars, Records there of passions raging through a wilderness of wars. “There a tumult of ambitions, power afloat on blood and tears,— Here one simple reign of wisdom, stretching thirteen hundred

years.

Self-subsisting, self-devoted, there the moment's hero ruled,— Here the state, each one subduing, pride enchained and passion schooled:

"Here was art the nation's mistress,-art of colour, art of stone,There before the leman pleasure bowed the people's heart alone. "Venice! vocal is thy silence, can our soul but rightly hear: Naples! dumb as death thy voices, listen we, however near."

The two following verses are prefixed to the volume: and compelled to look for a meaning in them, we conclude that Mr. Milnes here dimly refers to his achievements as a states

man.

"Amid the factions of the field of life,

The poet held his little neutral ground;
And they who mixt the deepest in the strife,
Their evening way to his seclusion found.
"Thus meeting oft the antagonists of the day,
Who near in mute suspicion seemed to stand,
He said what neither would be first to say,

And, having spoken, left them hand in hand."

Were this true, Mr. Milnes would be a greater than Orpheus. Yet there are passages of recent politics, hitherto unexplainable, which faith in the poet-politician's influence might render clear. Mr. Bradshaw, suddenly mollified,Colonel Sibthorp and Mr. Hume fighting together for economy, the Duke of Wellington shaking hands with ministers on the China question,-and Sir Robert Peel uniting with them on Canada,-can these be so many triumphs of Mr. Milnes and the Muses? We very much fear that we must be content with admiring the verses, and setting down the sentiments as only another instance of Mr. Milnes' imagination. This is not the stuff of which his political comrades are made. The two greatest of them, Colonel Sibthorp and Mr. Bradshaw, would very justly and naturally not deem of the poet as of the orator; while Sir James Graham's soul, attuned to "treasons, stratagems, and spoils," cannot "know the concord of sweet sounds;" and even the Duke and Sir Robert, though they would be probably more discreet in disclosing their opinions of one who adorns their party, would yet, we suspect, be very much in agreement with Cassius," What have the wars to do with these jigging fools ?"

We part with Mr. Milnes, hoping to have many future opportunities of noticing his poetry, and to be able to acknowledge at the same time that steady improvement of his muse, the result of continued meditation and study, which

we regret not to have perceived in the volume before us. We should be happy to see him rising above the short poems to which he has hitherto restricted himself, and buckling himself for a long labour. Taste, feeling, thought, and imagination, such as his, conjoined with the care which a more ambitious task would necessarily inspire, are ample sureties of success.

ART. VIII.-1. Tracts for the Times, No. 90.

2. The Subject of Tract 90 examined. By the Rev. F. Oakley, M.A.

3. The Thirty-nine Articles considered as the Standard and Test of the Doctrines of the Church of England. By G. Faussett, D.D.

4. A Review of No. 90 of the Tracts for the Times. By the Rev. R. Prettyman, M.A.

5. A Few Words in support of No. 90.-A few more Words, &c. (Appendix.) By the Rev. W. G. Ward, M.A.

6. Observations suggested by A Few More Words. By Rob. Lowe, Esq.

7. The Articles treated on in Tract 90 considered. By the Rev. E. B. Pusey, D.D.

8. Salutary Cautions against the Errors contained in the Oxford Tracts. A Charge to his Clergy, delivered at St. Nicholas' Church, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, on Monday, Aug. 9, 1841. By the Right. Rev. the Lord Bishop of Durham.

HE pamphlets here enumerated are but a small portion of those which have appeared within the last few months on the subjects discussed in the eventful Tract No. 90. The Rev. Mr. Prettyman informs us, that between sending his work to press and its publication, twenty-six pamphlets on the subject had been put into his hands. To this extent of acquisition our situation has not allowed us to reach; but we are content with the fact, as evidence of the great interest excited by that Tract; while we take it for granted that the few publications which have reached us contain the pith of the discussion, and present fair specimens of the reasonings and statements of the different sides. We are not going to step between the two, nor to attempt the melancholy decision whether the consciences of many will be best relieved by sub