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But whoso hears with idle ears,
And is no wiser made, sir,
A fool is he, and still would be,
Though in a mortar brayed, sir.
O blessings, etc.

THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.

Have you heard of this question the Doctors among, Whether all living things from a Monad have sprung? This has lately been said, and it now shall be sung, Which nobody can deny.

Not one or two ages sufficed for the feat,

It required a few millions the change to complete; But now the thing's done, and it looks rather neat, Which nobody can deny.

The original Monad, our great-great grandsire,
To little or nothing at first did aspire;
But at last to have offspring it took a desire,
Which nobody can deny.

This Monad becoming a father or mother,
By budding or bursting, produced such another;
And shortly there followed a sister or brother,
Which nobody can deny.

Excrescences fast were now trying to shoot;
Some put out a finger, some put out a foot;
Some set up a mouth, and some sent down a root,
Which nobody can deny.

Some wishing to walk, manufactured a limb; Some rigged out a fin, with a purpose to swim; Some opened an eye, some remained dark and dim, Which nobody can deny.

Some creatures grew bulky, while others were small,
As nature sent food for the few or for all;

And the weakest, we know, ever go to the wall,
Which nobody can deny.

A deer with a neck that was longer by half
Than the rest of its family's (try not to laugh),
By stretching and stretching, became a Giraffe,
Which nobody can deny.

A very tall pig, with a very long nose,

Sends forth a proboscis quite down to his toes;
And he then by the name of an Elephant goes,
Which nobody can deny.

The four-footed beast that we now call a Whale,
Held its hind-legs so close that they grew to a tail,
Which it uses for threshing the sea like a flail,
Which nobody can deny.

Pouters, fantails, and tumblers are from the same source;
The racer and hack may be traced to one Horse :
So Men were developed from monkeys, of course,
Which nobody can deny.

An Ape with a pliable thum and big brain,
When the gift of the gab he had managed to gain,
As a Lord of Creation established his reign,
Which nobody can deny.

But I'm sadly afraid, if we do not take care,
A relapse to low life may our prospects impair;
So of beastly propensities let us beware,

Which nobody can deny.

Their lofty position our children may lose,

And, reduced to all-fours, must then narrow their views
Which would wholly unfit them for filling our shoes,
Which nobody can deny.

Their vertebræ next might be taken away,

When they'd sink to an oyster, or insect, some day,
Or the pitiful part of a polypus play,

Which nobody can deny.

Thus losing Humanity's nature and name,

And descending through varying stages of shame,
They'd return to the Monad, from which we all came,
Which nobody can deny.

DON'T FORGET THE RICH.

"We'll educate the Poor," you say; and clearly it is right To try to lead our humble friends from darkness into light: To help their hands, to fill their hearts with feelings just and

true,

To make them skilled in handicrafts, and wise and happy too;
Yet take with me a wider range, and seek a higher pitch,
And while you educate the Poor, pray, don't forget the Rich.

The Poor are to be pitied much, of food and clothing scant;
Yet there's a kind of schooling, too, in poverty and want.
They learn to use their eyes and ears, they can't be idle quite ;
They must be up and doing, let the thing be wrong or right.
But when no motive stirs the mind, there comes a serious hitch;
For laziness and luxury are open to the Rich.

The rich man's son, I therefore think, may claim our pity too : He finds no want unsatisfied, he sees no work to do.

:

His bed is made: he's softly laid and when he lists to rise, Pleasure invites and Flattery's voice its Siren magic plies: Strange power have these confederate foes men's spirits to bewitch;

So while we don't neglect the Poor, we'll also mind the Rich.

The rich man's daughter often, too, may mourn a hapless fate,
If head and heart ne'er learned the art to dignify her state;
If life without a task or sphere is miserably spent

In languor or in levity or peevish discontent :

Scarce sadder lot has Hood's poor girl, condemned to sew and stitch,

Than hers the unidea'd maid, the daughter of the Rich.

The untaught Poor are dangerous, they know not what they need :

By clamour or pernicious threats they seek their cause to speed: They quarrel with their truest friends; and look with envious glare

On those whose industry and thrift have made them what they

are.

But all the Blind, of guides bereft, may fall into the ditch;
So give true insight to us all, the Poor as well as Rich.

What citizen can well be worse than one with wealth to spend,
Who neither has the power nor will to serve a noble end?
Trained in his body he may be, and taught to race and game,
But ignorant of letters and untouched by virtue's flame:
Corrupted, nay corrupting too,-it little matters which-
Oh, if the vicious Poor are bad, what are the vicious Rich?

If you possess compulsion's power, compel us all to learn
How we may best the Good and Bad, the Fair and Foul discern:
Let God's great laws, let Britain's weal, be rightly understood;
Show us the gain of growing wise, the joy of doing good :
Give in the social edifice to each his proper niche,

And teach their duties and their rights alike to Poor and Rich.

In hopes our social ills to cure, our ancient Kings and Laws Built schools and founded colleges to prosper the good cause. There all who came were kindly lured, or led by firm control, To learn whate'er would form the mind or purify the soul. These wise foundations seek to aid and elevate their pitch: You'll benefit both Rich and Poor-by training well the Rich.

THE PLANTING OF THE VINE.

A RABBINICAL LEGEND.

When Noah first planted the Vine,

The Devil contrived to be there,

For he saw pretty well that the Finding of Wine
Was a very important affair.

Mankind had been sober before;

But had not been remarkably good;

And the cold-blooded crew had deserved all the more To be deluged and drenched by the Flood.

To assist us in mending our ways,

And more safely our time to employ,

It was kindly determined to shorten our days,
And afford us some generous joy.

Then the grape came to gladden man's heart;
And a bright dawn of bliss seemed to glow,
When the rainbow and wine-cup could tidings impart,
Of an end both to Water and Woe.

So to hallow the newly-found fruit,

Noah chose a white Lamb without spot;

And he poured its young blood round the delicate root, To preserve it from blemish and blot.

But the Devil, such bounty to clog,

And to substitute evil for good,

Slaughtered also a Lion, an Ape, and a Hog,
And manured the young plant with their blood.

The first gush of the Vine's precious balm
Shows its power in an innocent way;

Like the Lamb's gentle nature, our temper is calm,
While our spirits are playful and gay.

But on tasting more freely the cup,
Then its Leonine vices are found;

With a combative ardour the heart is lit up,
And resentment and wrath hover round.

Next, the Ape, if still deeper we drink,
His grimaces and gambols will try;

Till at last, like the Hog, oversated we sink,
And contented lie down in the sty.

In avoiding these villainous beasts,

Let our sense of the blessing be shown:

Let the Lamb's playful spirit preside at our feasts,
Nor let even the Lion be known.

But I would not be ruthlessly told

From all temperate draughts to refrain ;

Lest perhaps, like the sober transgressors of old,
We should bring down the Deluge again.

JAMES CURRIE,

SOLDIER-POET, and Crimean hero, was born at Selkirk in 1829. The humble circumstances of his grand-parents, who brought him up, were such that his schoolastic education was very limited. At the age of nine he was at work in a mill as a "piecer," and ultimately became a spinner. By diligence and self-application, however, he made. good progress in learning during his spare hours. At ten years of age he was in love with Burns, and after reading through his poems several times, he made a journey, barefooted, and with one penny in his pocket, to the tomb of the great bard. Fired by patriotism after reading a hawker's edition of the "Life of Wallace," he enlisted into the 79th Cameron Highlanders, and went through the whole of the Crimean Campaign. On the last day of the seige, Currie lost his right arm by a cannon shot, and he has since been in possession of a pension of one shilling per day. After coming home, he was employed as a post-runner to Yair, which office he kept for about six years.

Being out of work, and his circumstances getting straightened, he, in 1863, published a volume entitled "Wayside Musings," and the edition of 1000 copies was cleared out in a few weeks. The poems were mostly composed during his walks by the "silvery Tweed," and during his "lonely rounds" at the mid-night hour on the tented field-being thus literally "Wayside Musings," and frequently jotted down from memory after the day's labours. Although, in some respects many of the pieces were very defective, the volume was favourably received. Owing to his maimed condition, employment was difficult to procure, but the late Hon. William Napier having taken an interest in him, took him to London,

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