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How much do you get for every pound's worth of goods?- Five Shillings in the pound, if we are not known; but if we are known, Ten Shillings in the pound

The above is an important document. We leave the reader to ponder over it, and the intelligent mind will find there more to engage it than we have space to point out, or ability to describe. One hundred and thirty-eight of our fellow-creatures in the prime of manhood, thieves by trade, self-acknowledged felons, ready to abandon their unlawful pursuits, and in this Christian, moral, liberal, and enlightened age, actually incapable of discovering how to be honest, and live! Out of 372, 278 had received no education, and their times of imprisonment varied from one to twenty-seven times, while two forgot how many times they had been incarcerated. But we must hasten to a close. What was to be said to the two hundred and seven confessed and convicted rogues then and there? What was to become of them after the party broke up? Lord Ashley is a practical philanthropist, a Christian gentleman, a legislator, and a lord. He has a heart and a head that reflect credit upon human nature. He is an ornament to society and a blessing to mankind, but he must have felt and deplored his individual helplessness; here he must have seen the magnitude of his task and the littleness of his power. He addressed his hearers, we are told, 'carefully and judiciously. No record was kept of his speech. He expressed his willingness to befriend them as it was his duty to do. His lordship candidly told them, that there was little hope for them here, and recommended them to turn their attention to the back settlements of the New World. Suggestive of levity as may be these particulars, there is something so serious, so solemn, associated with them, that the jeer sinks to a sigh, and we say, 'Alas, for frail humanity! Alas, for wayward man!' Lord Ashley could promise them nothing; and the sternness, consequent upon a consciousness of their unworthiness, probably melted into pity as he looked around upon the upturned faces of the prodigal, the profligate, the abandoned, the hopeless-the drowning men clinging to straws, the doomed, the guilty. The gallows loomed in the distance of thought, the hulks were ready.

Mutual aid' was what his lordship most recommended, -self-reliance, self-sacrifice, a relinquishing of their old practices, and new resolves for the future.

6

'But how,' said they, ' are we to live till our next meeting? We must steal, or die.' One of the party arose and said, 'My lord, and gentlemen of the jury, prayer is very good, but it will not fill an empty stomach.' There was a general response of 'Hear, hear;' and the directors of the meeting,' we are told, were in considerable difficulty. One thief hereupon came forward and recounted how he had forsaken his criminal calling, and travelled to Exeter on foot in search of employment, and back again to Mr Jackson, who received him, footsore and faint, and relieved him. Step by step, with evidence of repentance, must those rise who do emerge from their position; but without aid of some kind how few will escape the fate to which they are hastening. Those who were present felt this, for a sum of money was contributed on the spot, and thirteen of those who were present are now in the wilds of Canada. Our readers must draw their own comments from these facts.'

Are we not right when we say that true courage and true glory belong to the heroes of philanthropy P And shall not our Lord have rewards sufficient for men who, like Messrs Jackson and Walker, follow in the footsteps of their Master, keeping company with the vilest of sinners, and being willing to be thought of no account that perishing souls may be saved?

*This is literally true.

Original Poetry.

2 FAITH IN VIRTUE

Lewd exultation, unavailing wo,

Were loud in Asia; for the dogs of war
Had slipp'd their leashes, and fair women set,
Widow'd or sonless, amid gore and gloom.
Darius had left Snsa, glad through dreams
Interpreted by dreamers, with a host
beck'd for destruction.

Alexander lay

Sick in Cilissa, chafed by Persian threats
And providence. His chamber seem'd forsaken;
For they who sought his grace or loved his soul-
Courtiers, and ruder fav'rites from the camp-
Were taking counsel for his sudden care;
And, save one boy, a page, whose kindling eyes,
Unnoted, in a dream of manhood, scann'd
His glitt'ring weapons and the warlike gear,
He was alone.

A messenger arrived;

And, at his servant's hand, the king received
A letter from Parmenio, warning him
Of secret death, through Philip, his physician.
He startled-fiercely frown'd-supinely sank
Beneath a crowd of sorrowful reflections -
Rousing, shook consternation to the winds-
Sat upright in his couch, and, in the strength
Of some great purpose, calmly waiting, smiled.
A little while, and a low stir without
Broke the apartment's stillness. Then a group-
Trusting or trembling; staring, whisp'ring,
Or labouring in thought; warm-fancied youth.
And wisdom grey-stood round the bed of angnish;
And Philip, proffering his remedy,
Received th' accusing missive.

Glancing down it,

He turn'd, impulsively, in haste, to grasp
The goblet-'twas too late the draught was drunk.
'Ay, was it poison'd, Philip?'-'Nay,' the sage
Proudly and coldly answer'd.-'Why then seek
To take it?' said the monarch.-' To drink share
To slanderers, and prove my innocence:

Why didst thou drink?'-' I knew thee virtuous.*
There was a pause, while big hearts swell'd with joy,
And base ones shrank through envy; while bold eyes
Beam'd admiration, and vague glances spoke
Surprise and hatred: then the patient droop'd
Upon his pillow, in deep agony,
And, at the leech's signal, solemnly
And slowly, one by one, the rest withdrew
To plot, or weep, or serve a suffring master.
And morning found him arming for the fight,
And ev'ning babbled of the blood he'd shed,
And fond Fame call'd him Hero-Demi-god!"
And Time cried 'Murderer!'

Ye earnest spirits
Who'd spurn soil'd laurels, snatch'd from scenes of slaughter,
Whose thoughts are prophesies of future peace,
Oh, let the Macedonian's soaring faith
In virtue plead their cause, who, grand in will,
Are still misguided! and, belicving worth,
Crush'd, cherish'd, hidden, or reveal'd, to be
The heritage of genius, live on

With the high hope that, in the end, all gifts
Shall, heaven-directed, work for love and right!
NEWTON GOODRICH

HILMAR ERNST RAUSCHENBUSCH. HILMAR ERNST RAUSCHENBUSCH was not an illustrious man. The world, beyond his own country, did not know of him while he lived, and when he died great people did not put on the outward weeds of mourning; but Hilmar Erast Rauschenbusch was nevertheless a great man, and the record of his life is, perhaps, one of the most instructive and noble that could be placed in the hands of youth as a guide and example. The biographies of men like Oberlin and

Rauschenbusch are peculiarly valuable; they not only please but they instruct, and inspire a noble emulation. When we read in our youth of men who have devoted themselves to the world, and who have sacrificed humanity to their aggrandisement and glory, we have our wonder and imagination excited and pleased, but we are almost certain to suffer in our inward sense of right by familiarity with their actions.

The end of a warrior and statesman's life-ambition-is the grand object to which the eyes of those who study their lives are directed, so that the moralities which they sacrifice in the attainment of their objects become minor considerations to the constant student of the ambitious. In studying the lives of men like Oberlin and Rauschenbusch, the mind is directed not to the acquirement of worldly fame, but to the formation of a heavenly mind and character. The leading idea of their histories is not self-aggrandisement, but self-sacrifice. It is not personal will and human pride which we behold guiding them; but the will of God, and personal humility regulating their devoted and noble conduct. We wish we could impart to those pages a full sense of the lively pleasure which we have experienced from knowing in biography the good Rauschenbusch. From the ostensible character of Prussian religion, we were not prepared to find so beautiful a narrative of fidelity to the truth, and of such simplicity of faith in that country as the life of Rauschenbusch presents. It illustrates in a most beautiful light the character of the Prussian rural population, and shows that even below the form of despotism, there could live the spirit of pure free Christianity that whom the Gospel makes free, is free indeed. Hilmar Ernst Rauschenbusch was the fifth son of John Charles Rauschenbusch, pastor of Merbeck, in the county of Lippe Bückeburg, Prussia, and was born on the 27th of February, 1745. The family of Rauschenbusch seemed to be called to the ministry, for his brothers and sons chiefly adopted this path of duty, although two of the former preferred the destructive and vain-glorious soldiery of the world, to the conservative and immortal soldiery of the Cross.

Hilmar Ernst was superior to all his brothers in the substantial formation of his character, in his knowledge of mankind, in his tact and variety of abilities, and in his spirituality of mind. In early youth he easily and rapidly acquired the rudiments of education, and began to exhibit a tendency towards study and meditation; but when he was twelve years of age, his two brothers went away from home to join the army as lieutenants, and their flaunting attire excited his longings for the military life. Of himself he says, I heard everywhere so many incorrect notions expressed, serving to represent the life of a scholar as contemptible, and to extol that of a soldier, that I felt out of all patience to have in my sixteenth year to sit at home as a person of no importance.' This desire, however, was not gratified; and after an affectionate warning to parents to guard their children from the influences of ambition, he remarks,- For there were moments in my life when my desire to become a soldier seemed almost irresistible, and yet, after a few years, I came to see clearly, that there were good reasons to believe that I should have been miserable all my days had such a wish been gratified.' The youth of Rauschenbusch was passed in those studies which have been denominated scholarly. Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and French, occupied his attention; and, although he excelled in his acquirements, he never was satisfied with himself, but laboured under a sense of superficiality. He was very fond of music, and attained to great perfection in that art; but his chief end and constant desire was to obtain clear and explicit views of God's will, and to find and attain to integrity and consistency in Christian profession. The soul of Rauschenbusch was in love with truth, and he pursued it with an assiduity and determination that was noble and heroic. His rudimentary education was acquired at home from his father and elder brothers, and then he was sent to the High School at Bückeburg, where his studies were not very successful, however, on account of the illness of his teacher. The study of theology does

not seem to have been so protracted in Prussia as in this country, nor the academical path so guarded by tests and strict requirements. Rauschenbusch was two years at the University of Gottingen, and then he became tutor to the family of Von Grüter in Osnaburg, where he was introduced to refined society, and had an opportunity of seeing the world. The family of Von Grüter was a proud military one, and the lady had high notions of the disparity between a tutor and a noble; but the manly and dignified Rauschenbusch soon made her to perceive, that there was something more respectable in his character than title or birth, and he was always treated with marked respect. The year in which he entered the family of Von Grüter was a marked one in his history. He had begun to preach, and, with the commencement of his didactic labours, there arose in his soul those mysterious and spiritual premonitions of a new life which every converted Christian has felt. There had arisen in his inward man a legal spirit of bondage, which incited him to seek peace of conscience in the strict and faithful discharge of every duty. They were, however, real duties which he practised, and not imaginary ones; it was the strenuous exertion of his abilities, and not mere devotional exercises that had borne him along.'

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From the house of Von Grüter, Rauschenbusch went to Halle, with strict prohibitions from his father against going amongst a sect termed Pietists, or from accepting support from an establishment called the Orphan House. Har Ernst was on the search for the truth as it was in Chat and he would have as readily accepted it from the Pietista as from any other persons. At Halle, the students were generally drunken and dissolute, but those of the Orphan House had the reputation of piety, and he accordingly sought and obtained instruction there. The tutors kept an open table, so that when any one of the usual company was absent, there stood at the door probationary students, and these were then invited in and took the empty seats; but whoever was not invited in had to go away without a meal, and to get something for himself elsewhere.'

Rauschenbusch had money, and was not covetous, nevertheless he waited at the door; for he felt a peculiar delight in hearing the prayer before meals, and in joining in at once with it. But nothing disgusted him more than to see what was to him truth and life sunk down to mere empty pretensions or hypocritical dead form. One of his beautiful remarks to his brother students was- We, who shall one day have to convert others, ought to be converted ourselves, and to seek and endeavour, above all things, to be truly turned to God.'

After he left Halle, he went home to his father's house, where he was looked upon in sorrow as a Pietist. This grieved him extremely, as he had not adopted the tenets of any sect, but maintained the independent convictions vouchsafed to his light. Dogmatical divinity he seems never to have assumed as a mere theologian; yet it served him as a fastness into which he could retire from an attack in cases of necessity; still the forces he drew out against the common foe, and against that foe's human agents, consisted of the greater and lesser truths of practical Christianity.'

Rauschenbusch's residence in the family of a pious lady at Gohfeld, as tutor, brought him under the influence of the celebrated pastor Weihe, and his mind at last found peace. Rauschenbusch occasionally officiated for his aged friend, and was particularly delighted to commune with his pious and simple flock. This was the first time in his life that he had ever settled down amongst Christians of the working class. The simple kind of heart-language with which such people addressed him, and their frankness and sincerity, were peculiarly grateful to him. He could open his mouth confidentially to such brethren, and he found that it was good for him so to do. He told them, how that a sense of his own imperfections bowed him down and troubled him; and, in return, they showed him that he was not the only Christian who had to contend with indwelling sin.

In 1771, when twenty-six years of age, Rauschenbusch was called to his first pastoral charge of Bünde, and, after

his induction, he married the daughter of Weihe. The labours of Rauschenbusch, in his pastoral charge, were incessant, and not a day passed without its duties. His Saturday evenings were peculiarly delightful, and the reunions which then took place in his house were beautiful testimonies to the efficacy of Christian harmony. Strangers from far and near often came to him on those Saturday evenings. His house was a very temple of hospitality. Pious persons who arrived from a distance, seemed to see the apostolic period revived, when Christians had all things in common. It was enough to know, that there a Christian lives,' and people turned in under the roof.'

of overseer. A horse had died, belonging to one of his Christian neighbours, who could not well sustain the loss. He immediately got several of the farmers to hold a meeting, came forward among them, related the misfortune, awakened their sympathy, and said, 'You are all farmers, and I also am a farmer; cannot we muster a horse amongst us? I will give so much; what will you give?' Thus the good neighbour soon had his loss redeemed.

Such were Rauschenbusch's acts, not only towards friends, but towards enemies. A woman who, in some of his more immediate household matters, had done him the basest injustice, came soon after into a state of peculiar dependence on him, in the very station in which she had injured him. He had now an opportunity to requite her! with good in the fullest measure for the much evil she had done him; and, in return for this, he had the joy of seeing her become quite an altered character: so that many years afterwards, when he was now at Elberfeld, and she was on her death-bed, she sent a message to him, saying, that she should acknowledge him before the throne of the Redeemer as the deliverer of her soul, by his generous and magnanimous treatment.

The friends of the parish who were blessed with plenty, had generally, on these nights, strangers from Saxony, Hamburg, Osnaburg, and Minden, who were in Bünde on business, or looking for employment, and they came to wait till Sunday, in order to hear profitable and fearless preaching. These Saturday evenings were of peculiar benefit to Christians who dwelt apart, as it brought them into contact and acquaintance with one another. Rauschenbusch at those seasons used to show the strangers how they ought to conduct themselves with respect to their unconverted ministers, and exhorted them to know their • His life at Bünde was now approaching the nineteenth office, wherever and as long as it was possible to get any year, and his efficiency had attained a ripeness which set good from things which they taught or practised, and to him in the rank of the most considerate, influential, and bring no scandal upon true religion by any imprudence of pious men of his time. He was the first moral authority their own. But he quite as impressively charged them to in his parish. Under the Divine blessing, he had quite make a free and open profession of their faith; and he was transformed it. Whereas it had once been the most quar iso a powerful help to many an one that was oppressed, relsome in the whole country, it had now become the most cast down, or wavering. Thus was spent the evening be- peaceful. He had urged the necessity of a thorough reno fore the Sabbath; and lastly he made his whole family come vation of the heart; had required love towards one's neightogether to prayer. This indeed was his practice every bour as the prime fruit of it; had, in all their contentions, evening, with his servants, and maids, and day-labourers; ever smoothed the way to adjustment, and urged the laying but the children were not allowed to be present on these aside of differences, and thus had effectually got rid of ther occasions, unless they begged permission to be so. Yet contentious disposition. Moreover, he still ceased not to they were always thus present on Saturday evenings. And guide by his information and advice; to exhort, to admonish, then the first thing he did was, to read to the company the and even, when it was necessary, to speak severely. Thus text for the day out of Bogatzky's 'Golden Treasury;' after he had once pacifically exhorted a set of hamlet peasants which, all kneeled down; the father of the family prayed; of his parish, who were disposed to go to law with one anand then all dispersed for repose, to meet the coming Lord's- other; he had taken all possible pains, and had repeatedly day. The next morning Rauschenbusch would be on the sacrificed considerable time for the purpose of persuading look-out from his house toward the various roads and path- them to an equitable agreement, and had, at length, sucways around him, by which the members of his congrega- ceeded in convincing them that it was best; so that they tion that lived at a distance were coming. His heart would had agreed so to do. Nevertheless, he was waited upon. beat to see them, and his sermon then often received many one evening, by a fresh deputation from them; the bade an addition from his pen. The parsonage was soon full of them come up to him into his room, and then asked,* What people; those who did not like going to the inns went do you wish further to say to me?' Mr Pastor, that we to the dwelling of the minister, and there they met one are still determined to go to law!' He made them no reanother. Thus many strangers got acquainted, and con- ply, but opened the door, and showed them the way out gratulated the people of Bünde on having always so near This succeeded; and the law-suit was dropped. In like to them what they themselves could obtain but seldom, and manner a very bad man had, for a long time, been vexaeven then with some difficulty and toil. And now they tious to the parish of Bünde, and no one could restrain him. proceeded to church; an ancient edifice, built, as tradition Whenever he pleased, he turned his horse into his neigh says, by Wittekind; but it had nothing beautiful about it; hour's fields of sown or standing corn, and used to brawi indeed, many a portion of it offended persons of taste. The and bluster as he passed along so that no one dared to service was conducted without any remarkable ceremonies. approach him. Rauschenbusch. determined at length to But one must have been present in such congregations to take him seriously in hand. The small stream that run feel how the kingdom of God cometh not with all that through the place separated Rauschenbusch's glebe-farm wherewith many in our days choose to make it suffer from the public road, along which this fellow came blustering on his way into the town. Rauschenbusch happening just then to hear him, but being on the other side of the stream, came to the water edge within sight of him, and called out, Muth (that was his name), I am coming!' and the man was immediately quiet. Rauschenbusch met him directly in the wood just by; and though no one was secure of his life in meeting him thus, Rauschenbusch went resolutely up to him, took hold of him with a firm hand. and said, ‹ All Bünde is afraid of you; but I am not afraid of the devil; and I command you to come to me to-morrow, and to let me know whether you mean to be a different man!' The fellow actually came the next morning, and Rauschenbusch set before him the authority and sacredness of the law of God, and the judgment to come, and this he did with all the seriousness of his offcial character, and with all the importunity of an honest heart anxiously interested about him. And though he never could regard him as a converted man, yet he succeeded so far as to bind

violence.'

Such was the beautiful picture of the patriarchal pastor and his flock, as they proceeded to the place of religious communion; and such were the holy influences that visited their simple hearts in that place. Beautiful as Rauschenbusch appears surrounded by his people, his moral and spiritual beauty was none the less, when he stood alone in the discharge of his duty. He was attached with cordial Christian tenderness to all the needy and distressed; a sincere friend and helper of the widow and the orphan; and his house was a true refuge of the destitute. He had be come acquainted with human life in its many and diversified relations; and therefore he could, in the most perplexed cases, meet the helpless with consolation and assist ance. He had brought the state of the poor of that parish into the best possible order; and when in the year 1777 the great scarcity pervaded the whole country, he, from the mere constraint of his benevolent spirit, undertook the office

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1

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Satan within him, so that this person was constrained to
cease from annoying his fellow-men.'

As Rauschenbusch's parishioners became more and more
enlightened and faithful Christians, the link that bound him
to them became more one of affection than duty, so that he
felt a strong inward desire to go to some more barren spot
of his Father's vineyard, and leave his much loved Bünde,
In the spring of 1790, he received a call from the Evan-
gelical Lutheran Church, Elberfeld, and at once accepted
it. He did not stop to consider that his emoluments would
be considerably less, and that the locality was completely
unknown to him. He heard that the parish was a wide
field of labour lying ready for the sower, and he went forth
accordingly. The people of Bünde wept aloud on his ac-
count, and believed that he could not live long, now that he
had consented to leave them. They had strained all the
devices of affection to retain him amongst them, and now
they mourned over his parting.'

315

charged his duties to God and to the world, his life at
especially in the education of his children did he exemplify
home was one of peace, and holiness, and diligence; and
great wisdom and care.
began with life.
meaning of words, he would perhaps take them in his arms,
The education of his little ones
and, pointing upwards to heaven, would say, There dwells
Whenever they were conscious of the
Abba (our heavenly Father), who loves little children;' if
he added more, it was If little children behave well.'
When they were older, he sought to correct their lesser
faults not by stern rebuke, but by parables, which not only
interested but instructed. Whenever he announced at table
that he was going to tell a story, the thoughts of each child
in order to see to which of them it applied. Thus, for in-
were instantly turned upon itself, or brothers and sisters,
stance, he made one of his little foster-daughters-for he
voluntarily received into his house and supported many
in the year, and it used to lie in her bed-room. It did not
orphan children-the present of a text-book for every day
escape his notice, that the book was seldom opened, and
this he observed for many days. At last he related at table,
that one of his daughters had a friend who complained to
to be useful to her young friend. The accused felt by his
looking at her that she was the person meant, but she
could not guess how to apply the parable. After a few
days, Rauschenbusch related that the friend, grown weary
of indifference, intended to leave the place, and at last he
declared that it had left the place, when the little girl
springing up exclaimed, 'It is my text-book.' Nothing de-
lighted him more than excursions into the country, sur-
rounded by his merry troop of lovely children. These ex-
cursions were promised long beforehand, thus adding hope
to enjoyment.

In 1790, Rauschenbusch removed to hilly Wupperthal, a place widely different from the sphere in which he had hitherto been engaged, both in external character, and in the peculiarities of the people. The valley of Wupperthat was one of the first to accept the Swiss reformed doc-him that she was taken no notice of, although she wished trines, and to maintain a vigorous state of religious independence. The natives of the vale were a hardy, strong, and simple race of men, who were both religious and industrious. Besides the general industrial occupations of towns, the main branch of their trade consisted in the bleaching and manufacturing of linen yarn. All round the town of Elberfeld, and on both sides of the water of Wupper, as well as up the lateral recesses of the narrow vale, were the bleaching establishments. On Sundays every body went to church, except such as were constrained to stay at home through family duties, or for watching the Kinen. The manners of the people were remarkably simple, and disparities of condition were scarcely known. The shrewd primitive simplicity which distinguishes a frugal, industrious, rural community, having little or no contact with the great world, peculiarly distinguished the people of the Wupperthal amongst whom Rauschenbusch now went to minister.

Rauschenbusch's success in Elberfeld was equal to what it had been in Bände. flock with a love of God, and to stir them up to a pure and His grand aim was to inspire his active love of one another, and in this he was singularly successful. He had never joined any of the parties in the church, and yet he lived at peace with, and was respected by, them all. The drinking and merrymaking customs of the people distressed Rauschenbusch, and, although these were countenanced by the magistrates and government, he determinedly set himself to abolish them. rishioners soon became aware that he was opposed to balls All his paand theatres; and that he regarded light conversation at weddings and christening parties as singularly out of place. Once he heard that there was to be a great merrymaking at a wedding about to be, and he immediately sent for the bridegroom, and declared that if he noticed any such thing, he would not perform the ceremony. This warning was disregarded, and Rauschenbusch hearing the sound of music and dancing, turned back and sent the clerk to tell the betrothed, that they must come to the parsonage and be married. The company were frightened, delayed a long time, and at last moved in silence to the parsonage, where they remained some time in thought, until Rauschenbusch made his appearance. He spoke to them impressively, and remonstrated against their commencing the most important period of a Christian's life in so trifling a manner, and this had the effect of introducing the observance of a serious decorum at weddings ever after.

Faithfully as he discharged the duties of admonition upon any departure from sound doctrine, he was little disposed to systematically undertake the labour of refuting infidelity. He knew that this foe yielded not to arguments of reason, but only to illumination from above; and that it is better to implant the truth, than to waste one's strength in attempting by disputation to uproot error.

If such was the manner in which Rauschenbusch dis

vided refreshments on the way, and, quietly sticking fruit
On these occasions, he did indeed act as father; he pro-
upon the boughs of trees, would call the delighted children
around him, holding the tiniest up to pluck them.

his own household, in order that he might supply with his
At Elberfeld, as at Bünde, he was remarkably frugal in
and seldom has he been surpassed in the practice of such
self-denying savings the wants of widows and of orphans,
self-denying benevolence.

fectionate heart was often wounded in its deepest chords;
Rauschenbusch was sorely tried in this life, and his af-
but these visitations only chastened his soul the more, and
led him nearer to heaven. His eldest son, Augustus, who
had been called to the ministry at nineteen, died at twenty-
one years of age, in the flushing of a glorious promise;
and his beloved son, Wilhelm, was drowned in 1809, while
tenderness of the rest of his family, and his own deep piety,
bathing in the Neckar at Tübingen; but the affectionate
bore him up even in his old age, and sustained him in his
duty.

died, having just entered his seventy-first year. His death
On the 10th of June, 1815, Hilmar Ernst Rauschenbusch
was like his life, full of peace and calm heroic dignity.
There was no pomp nor proud array at his funeral, and the
vain oblation of fashionable homage did not attend his re-
mains to the grave; but hundreds of humble and earnest
Christians walked slowly and tearfully behind his bier;
and the influence of his heavenly character and the heart-
felt glory of his name are still known and honoured in
Bünde and simple Wupperthal.

SHORT ETYMOLOGICAL NOTICES OF THE
TOPOGRAPHY OF ENGLAND.

BY PÆDEUTES.

STANHOPE is a considerable market-town, situate on the
Wear, at its confluence with one of those numerous tribu-
taries which descend from that dorsal ridge of hills that has
not unaptly been denominated the Apennines of England,
though none of them in the county of Durham rises to any
considerable altitude. The former syllab... Stan, is the
Stanton-Drew, Somersetshire; but, whether so called from
old English for stone, as in Stanton, Gloucestershire,

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certain Druidical monuments of stone, as is the case with the latter two places, or from the stony character of the locality, we have not been able to procure sufficient data whereby to determine. The latter syllable is a most significant term, indicating the hollow, lurch, or sheltered part of a hill, where shepherds were wont to build their bouchts, shielings, or huts-hunters to erect their bothies and gypsies, like the Scythians of old, to pitch their flying camps. Hoff and howff, Scoticé, are forins of the same word, only they are, in the slang vocabulary, appropriated to denote the place where tipplers, smugglers, tinkers, and others of that kidney do usually rendezvous and congregate. In the south of Scotland, and in the north of England, the name predominates in the hilly or pastoral districts, and is pronounced whaap. In the south of England it is pronounced huve, with a French u. Another modification of hope is Eng. haven, Ger. hafen, Brit. hafn, Dan. havn or hagen; only that the latter are properly applied to places of shelter on the sea-coast, as hope is to places in the interior of a country. The primary idea couched under all these diversified modifications of the same word seems to be that of opening or oping; a gap or aperture, in fact. This maritime idea the Celts happily express by aber, i.e. mouth; whence Fr. havre, as Havre-de-grace, i.e. the haven of safety, its creek or crook, viz. in the coast, being from time immemorial a noted asylum for mariners in stress of

weather.

On the other side of the Wear, and opposite Stanhope, is Bishop's ley, being another of the numerous names indicative of the extent of old of the episcopal jurisdiction and territory in this ecclesiastical county.

Chester-le-Street, so called to distinguish it from Chester or West-Chester, the capital of Cheshire, and noted for a capital iron-foundry, is situate on the Wear, about halfway betwixt Durham and Sunderland. Chester denotes it to have been, during the Roman dominion in the island, the site of a castra stativa, or permanent camp. In such castra all our towns and cities, into whose formation chester or any of its modifications enters, originate, as will be seen abundantly in the sequel. Street intimates that it is situate on or near one of the great military roads or streets which the Romans constructed to facilitate and expedite the marching of troops, and the conveyance of warlike stores from station to station. The particular highway in question was that styled in aftertimes Icknel Street, which, beginning at Colonia, the modern Colchester in Essex, held its course through Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridge, and so on, through Lincoln and York, to Tinmouth. The inhabitants of Norfolk and Suffolk were called at that time Iceni, or Cenimagni, i.e. the men of the headland, or great promontory; for so they called that rotund and bulky projection which contains the modern counties of Norfolk and Suffolk, and part of Cambridge and Essex; and this they so denominated to distinguish it from Cantium or Kent, which is, as if you would say, the lesser promontory; both having for their roots the old British term cefn, which signifies a head, and by extension a fore land. From these Iceni, Icknel Street is with much probability thought to have had its name. This name not only evidently points back to the remote times of the Roman domination, but it smacks also of the Norman conquest in the central French article le, the. The Normans appointed by the Conqueror to survey England and compile Doom's-day Book, being ignorant of, or but partially acquainted with the language of the native Saxons, committed many sad blunders in pronouncing and inditing the names of places. This ancient and authentic record is justly esteemed the foundation of English property; its era the date whence historians and antiquarians commence their inquiries, and beyond which it is considered almost lost labour to extend their research. Extracts from it, also, in general constitute the ground-work upon which most of the provincial

This haven formerly (in 1515) had a chapel dedicated to our Lady of Grace, to whom sailors in distress were lavish of their vows. This chapel has since disappeared; but an ancient hotel still exists, with a boat and boatman rudely carved on stone, the sign of the house and the device of the town.

histories of England have been reared. However, it is by no means in the article of topographic orthography always a safe guide to the etymological student-the Norman scribes, who, by the way, were chiefly priests or clerks. spelling the words arbitrarily and at random. While on this word, it will not be foreign to our subject and purpose to advert to Horne Tooke's derivation of it. This eminent ! philologist derives street from Fr. étroit, which is from Lat. strictus, the past participle of stringo, to stretch, strain, and is equivalent to strict or strait. Now, under submis- ! sion, this derivation seems to us too tightly drawn, or, as the French critics term it, 'tirée par cheveux. In fact, so far is the English word street froin radically involving the idea of straitness or narrowness, that it implies the very contrary one of width or broadness. In the Roman authors, the strata viarum, i.e. the prostrated or levelled parts of the ways, are always directly or by implication opposed to [' the angusta viarum, i.e., the narrow parts or straits | Thus Virgil exactly in point,

'Obsedere alii telis angusta viarum,"

which Dryden, with admirable critical acumen, thus paraphrases

To several posts their parties they divide,

Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide

The labour expended on these public highways or streets, which in many places are still visible, was prodigious. The word street is full of meaning, telling an astounding tale ! of hills excavated, valleys filled up, forests felled, bogs drained, and rivers over-arched. In some parts these massy ways were calcata, i.e., pitched or paved with stone, whence our English causeway, or causey.

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By sin and death a broad way now is paved
The causey to hell-gate.'-Milton.

From Chester-le-Street, proceeding down the Wear, which here flows through a densely populous district, whose in- ! habitants more or less participate in the coal-trade, we arrive at Wear-mouth, or Bishop's Wearmouth, yet another appellation farther corroboratory of episcopal sway. Had the Wear been situate in Wales or Caledonia, the town al its embouchure would have been called Aberwear, or Inverwear. Bishop's Wearmouth has an extensive manafactory of sail-cloth. Almost adjoining to it succeeds the busy, thriving, and populous town of Sunderland. This town competes with Newcastle, and with North and South Shields, in the exportation of the grand staple of the county, viz., coal. Its port at the mouth of the Wear. though much enlarged and deepened of late years, will not admit colliers of the largest burden, which the Tyne at the Shields does; but, by way of compensation, nature bas arranged it so, that vessels can get out to sea from the mouth of the Wear much more readily than from that of the Tyne. By the way, mariners term a vessel from the latter river a Geordie, and from the former a Jamie. sea, they can distinguish the one from the other by the different colours of their bows, sides, sterns, &c. And right worthy sea-tubs these same Geordies and James are in a gale of wind, either weathering the storm like the ger-falcon, or gallantly riding it out lively and busyant as a wild-duck! And right worthy, too, are the tars who man our dingy navy-alert aloft or alow-skiled with steady eye, and heart, and hand, to steer the good craft, with never a yaw, over the tempestuous waste of waters-cool, courageous, and collected, amid the many images of death, the lurking perils, and the sudden emergencies, that ever beset the nautical life! Oh, ye sons and daughters of affluence and luxury, as you sit at ease and safety by the cheerful sea-coal fire, and

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think gratefully upon the hardy blue-jackets, who are even then braving the boisterous storm, and buffeting the noeturnal billow to contribute to your comfort on shore!

When a ship is not steered steadily, but goes in and out with ber head, Jack, in his own expressive lingo, says, 'She sheeps of games.' Therefore, in giving chace to an enemy, or in a violent gale of wisd the ablest men are put to the helm, who can keep the ship steadiest and evenest upon a point.

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