The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1842-10-21 00:00:00

Vuttrp.

LINES
ON THE LAST PARTING OF A. POOR BUT VIRTUOUS
CHRISTIAN AND HIS FAMILY.

(For the Liverpool Standard.)
The clay has yielded up its breath ;
Its vital spark hath fled ;
Why weep you round the bed of death ?
Why mourn you for the dead ?
He is not here, but he has gone ;
You saw his end was peace ;
Ang Brought
from Heaven's all-gracious throne,
down his soul's release.

Dry up the fountains of your eyes,
Ye kindred now forlorn ;
And hail God's message from the skies,
Which bids you cease to mourn.
No more be feels the cold—the blight
That kept his spirit chained :
His faith is lost in perfect sight,
His highest hope obtained:
The swift-winged seraphs watched this clay
Throughout the noon of night,
And, with the earliest dawn of day,
Unveiled the world of light;
And when the eyeballs ceased to roam
O'er those he loved and blest,
They took the pilgrim to his home,
The weary to his rest.

He sleeps—no cares his slumbers bring,
No dreams his rest annoy :
He'll wake—when morning stars shall sing,
And angels shout for joy !
Be not dejected, sad, and low,
But raise your spirits higher;
The Lord will be your father now,
The living God your sire.

Wayfarer ! count each fleeting hour ;
Scan all thy works with care :
This dying bed displayed the power
Of penitence and prayer !
Liuerpool, 15th October, 1842.

ENGLAND AS SHE WAS.

(From Oasller's Fleet Papers.)

•
She was the cradle and the castle of well-poised liberty ;
on her bosom peace and plenty were wont to crown her val-
leys and her plains : then the world looked to England as an
example. Her powerful arm forced the oppressor to tremble ;
for it was wielded by her happy, brave, and athletic sons.
Her shield was the protection of injured innocence, for it was
sustained by righteousness. To her the fugitives from foreign
tyranny resorted, and found a safe and peaceful domicile.
The nation's church was revered by her people : her clergy
were then their shepherds—her nobles as their fathers. Her
merchants were honoured throughout the world, as well for
their integrity as for their wealth : they were once famed for
honour and honesty ; now for cant and fraud. The husband-
man pursued his healthful career with whistling cheerfulness,
for his reward was plenty ; the sound of the shuttle, mingling
with the national anthems of the old and young, gave token.
in our northern cottages, of healthfulness and peace ; and a
plentiful reward was certain. No jealous ranklings then dis-
turbed the peace of the labourer if the farmer prospered ; he
sighed not at the splendour of the noble. No heart-burnings
disturbed the watchings of the artizan when his employer
obtained profitable returns ; he envied not the wealth of
the merchant. Then labour was pleasant, because it was
the sure precursor of plenty and of health. In those days—
and they are within my memory—the noble, the farmer, and
the peasant—the merchant—the manufacturer and the ar-
tisan, had but one interest—their own, the nation's weal.
The dull monotonous tramp of a policeman's foot was then
unknown in England—that poisonous " reptile" is not indi-
genous. One single constable was sufficient for a town like
Leeds. There was then more awe inspired by the clerical
hat of the priest, than by a regiment of Dragoons—it was the
debt of reverence for the office and the wearer. At his ap-
proach, vice was abashed, and virtue smiled. There were
few factories in those days—the artisans then performed their
ingenious evolutions at their homes, hence our manufacturing
population were not corrupted, their bodies were hale and
healthy, their minds were cheerful. The families were not
then supported by the mill-labour of the mothers and chil-
dren—the matrons remained at home to nurse and train the
younger ones, arid manage household work. As the children
grew older, the father taught the boys his arts and labour—
the girls were placed as servants with the more opulent neigh-
bours ; there they were prepared for matrimony, to become
faithful and thrifty wives. The streets of our manufacturing
towns were then neither disgraced by police nor prostitutes.
The church was well frequented, but the churchyards were
not crowded with the untimely dead—sent, by the factories,
long before nature called for them.
We bad no large crowded prisons then, containing hun-
dreds—one small lock-up was all that Leeds required ; and
it was oftener without a tenant than occupied. Our hospi-
tals and workhouses were not then crowded with factory
cripples.
There was then no WANT for INDUSTRY—pIenty crowned
her board. If casual n.isfortune visited, the willing hand of
Christian benevolence was ready to relieve and remedy—if
its stay was lengthened and cureless, the workhouse received
the houseless and the " dateless." But the inmates of that
last home of the destitute were not exiled— their friends
could visit them, and administer comfort and relief. Nay,
from that house, how often have I seen them welcoma visi-
tors at the abodes of the wealthy, their former friends and
neighbours. England was England then ! But now, alas,
how changed !