But whoso hears with idle ears, 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, This Monad becoming a father or mother, Excrescences fast were now trying to shoot; 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, And the weakest, we know, ever go to the wall, A deer with a neck that was longer by half A very tall pig, with a very long nose, Sends forth a proboscis quite down to his toes; The four-footed beast that we now call a Whale, Pouters, fantails, and tumblers are from the same source; An Ape with a pliable thum and big brain, But I'm sadly afraid, if we do not take care, Which nobody can deny. Their lofty position our children may lose, And, reduced to all-fours, must then narrow their views Their vertebræ next might be taken away, When they'd sink to an oyster, or insect, some day, Which nobody can deny. Thus losing Humanity's nature and name, And descending through varying stages of shame, 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; The Poor are to be pitied much, of food and clothing scant; 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, 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; What citizen can well be worse than one with wealth to spend, If you possess compulsion's power, compel us all to learn 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 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, Then the grape came to gladden man's heart; 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, The first gush of the Vine's precious balm Like the Lamb's gentle nature, our temper is calm, But on tasting more freely the cup, With a combative ardour the heart is lit up, Next, the Ape, if still deeper we drink, Till at last, like the Hog, oversated we sink, In avoiding these villainous beasts, Let our sense of the blessing be shown: Let the Lamb's playful spirit preside at our feasts, But I would not be ruthlessly told From all temperate draughts to refrain ; Lest perhaps, like the sober transgressors of old, 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, |