Brighouse & Rastrick Gazette. — 1879-05-03 (Brighouse, West Yorkshire, England)

TION OF HAWORTH CHURCH. ORIGINAL.] Hold your sacrilegious hands; Touch not that venerated pile; Let it stand so quaint and ancient, For its dear associations,— Think of those who trod its aisle. Pause and think; then touch it not. For 'neath that sacred tomb there sleeps, One whose memory still we cherish, She whose life-work ne'er will perish, And for whom the world still weeps. From that ever fertile brain, Emanated thoughts sublime, Gave the world a priceless largess. Twined a mighty wreath immortal Round that temple, marked with time. Noble inspirations grand Flowed with vigour from that pen ; Gave her works a soul-born pathos, Tinged anon with fiery spirit, True to nature, and to men. And her sisters rest with her, Gifted to a high degree; Lived their separate lives for others, In one grave beheath that tablet— Slumber now the sisters three. Once within this village quiet, The light of genuis shone around; Now it woos the world unto it, Where their mortal dust reposeth, Underneath that hallowed ground. Sparks of genuis kindled here. Won them all a world-wide fame: Near that sacred pile abiding, Yonder moorland wild with heather Fann'd them to a shining flame. Honoured as their resting place, Spare, oh I spare it to the last; Guard it, save it, from destruction ; Hold it yet in veneration— Treasured relic of the past :3 Let not ruthless hands destroy, That sacred edifice so grey; 'Tis the one our country loveth, Emblem of the bygone ages, Built by hands long passed away. Once upon her bridal morn, She knelt before that altar there ; Gave her hand to him who loved her, Genuis then her brow encircled,— While she breathed the holy prayer. Then alas! in after years, In sable garments moving slow ; There was seen a sad procession Seek that place so dim and solemn, In the tomb they laid her low. Keep it, for the love we bear, None again her place can fill; There she, dead, in peace reposeth, Softly tread, thy voice subduing, Hold that altar sacred still. All the village worthies old, Ever prize it more and more; Monument of their ancestors ; Spot wherein thy love to worship,— Their forefathers went before. Many have been baptised there, Wedded at that altar old ; Then in other years were carried, In that peaceful churchyard buried, In the earth so damp and cold. Oh! retain it for their sake, Let not hands its walls efface; Let not then their every vestige, Dwell alone in memory's vista, Leave us yet that single trace. Let it but decay with time, 'Tis the wish that thousands crave ; At the shrine of genius bowing, Bending low with softened feeling,— Paying tribute o'er that grave. Sacred to her memory dear, Who liveth, tho' her soul is fled : Precious is the spot she haunted— Save it ;—for the love of Heaven ; Hear the voice that mourns the dead. CHARLOTTE COATE&  A CORRESPONDENT says—l shall be glad if you will kindly allow me to recommend the Excelsior Magazine to the readers of the Gazette. The leading article in the May number is a sketch of "The early days of The Learned Blacksmith,'" Elihu Burritt, with portrait. "The crown of Amaranth" is a very interesting and instructive article in which appears the following :—" Highest of all is the motive which ruled the earthly life of our Blessed Redeemer, and which He embodied in those Divinely human words, I come domn from heaven not to do Mine own mill, but the will of Him which sent Me.' This motive is repeated and reflected, however faintly and feebly, in the lives of all His faithful disciples. To subject our will to the will of our Father in heaven is the first practical lesson of Christian life, although a lesson in which, perhaps, we never become perfected on earth. 'Lord, what would'st Thou have me to do?' is its daily motto, and happy, peaceful, restful should we be if we could, in all simplicity and self-forgetfulness, make that motto truly and constantly our Own.  _ 'I would not have the restless will That hurries to anti fro, Still seeking some great thing to do. Or secret thing to know, I would be treated as a child, And guided where I go.'" "Hand over hand: a life story," is continued, and cannot fail to interest all Christian readers. To those who had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Thomas Cooper when he appeared in this neighbourhood not long ago, the following extract. from an article on "Prison literature," contributed by Mr. William Finnernore, will doubtless be of some interest : "And coming down to still more modern times we find Thomas Cooper (now the veteran advocate of Christian truth) confined in Stafford Goal for Chartism, writing 'The purgatory of suicides,' a poem which won for its author the conitnendation and friendship of critics like Carlyle and Wordsworth, Forster, Dickens, and Jerrold. Such men have shown how the most disheartening citcumstances may be made the means of great achievements and fresh glories. They are great exemplars, showing how independent of outward circumstances we are, BO long as heart and mind are true. Their motto might have been 'Excelsior,' for the lesson of their lives is ever pointing upward and onward, from the mists and gloom of earth to the serene heights of heaven. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage. If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty." "True girlhood : the early days of Ann and Jane Taylor," by the late Mrs. C. L. Balfour, is concluded in this number. "Counsels to the newly married " finishes with this quotation : Oh! the heart that has truly loved never forgets But as truly loves on to the close; As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets The same look which she turned wh,n he rose. Among other articles of interest are the following : " Bound the world : No. 2, Lundy Isles"; " Plans and rules for Bible study"; " The Fete-Dieu, or Corpus-Christi Day in Cologne"; " Marriage of the Duke of Connaught"; "The hussar and the schoolmaster"; "Leaves from a schoolgirl's diary in Corsica : introductory letter"; " Rainfall abroad and at home"; "Out-of-door papers; No. 3, Our naturalist's stock-in-trade." The oetical coil HintLions compriFe :—" The primrose," " A 1.4.ng (if Britain," by A. H. Mlles; "The daily bread and daily cross,' etc, J. W• C.