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determined rebellion, not against man, by his Grace the Archbishop of Cashel. but against God.

ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE. Appointments.-The Duke of Northumberland has been pleased to appoint the Very Rev. Thomas Philip Lefanu, Dean of Emly, to be one of his Excellency's Chaplains.

The Rectory of Gaile, in the Diocese of Cashel, vacant by the death of the Rev. Edward Hacket, has been granted to the Rev. Anthony Edwards,

His Grace the Duke of Northumberland has been pleased to appoint the Very Rev. Dr. Burrowes, Dean of Cork, to be one of his Excellency's Chaplains.

Bombay, Oct. 5th, 1828.- From a few Penang papers we regret to learn the death of the Lord Bishop of Calcutta, on board the ship Marquess of Hastings, on his way to Penang from Calcutta. His lady and infant were said to be on board the ship.

VIEW OF PUBLIC AFFAIRS.

The intense interest of the parliamentary discussions has swallowed up every other subject. Mr. Peel has brought forward his Emanciption Bill in the House of Commons, which was read a first time, after a division in which there was a a majority of 188 in favour of it-it has since been read a second time. The Bill does certainly not contain as many securities as had been anticipated, perhaps without a knowledge of the difficulties. All restrictions are taken off the Roman Catholics by it, and they are admissible to all offices in the state, except those of Lord Chancellor and Lord Lieutenant; the only oath exacted is one not to attempt the subversion of the Church Establishment. The most important guards are a substitution of £10 for 40s. as the qualification for the elective franchise, and a registering of all Jesuits and other members of monastic orders, with a prohibition upon the importation of any others, and a penalty upon making any monks or friars in Ireland. To this may be added, that the Roman Catholic dignitaries are prevented from assum

ing the titles that belong by right to the Protestant Establishment. Such is the substance of the Bill, which will probably be much modified in passing through the House. We are not disposed to observe upon its provisions. We trust that the overruling providence of God will direct to the good of his Church the designs of men; and regarding as we do the Church of these realms to be an instrument in the band of the Lord to do great things, we firmly trust in his protection. The general excitement is very great, though scarcely so high as might have been anticipated. Petitions continue to pour into Parliament, particularly against concession; and we certainly rejoice at the feeling thus manifested, as we have in it a pledge of the care with which aggression will be guarded against. How imperiously are all who value the interests of religion called upon to join their petitions to the Throne of Grace, for this kingdom and its parliament !— On whatever side we look, there is danger, against which nothing but the directing arm of God can protect us.

POETRY.

EARLY DEATH.
BY JOHN ANSTER, ESQ.

Ob, breathe not-breathe not-sure 'twas something holy --
Earth bath no sounds like these-again it passes

With a long low voice, that slowly rolls away,

Leaving a silence not unmusical!

And now again the wind-harp's frame hath felt

The spirit-like the organ's richest peal,
Rolls the long murmur, and again it comes,
That wild, low, wailing voice.

These sounds to me
Bear record of strange feelings-it was evening,
And this same instrument lay on my window,
That the sighing breezes there might visit it ;-
I then did love to leave my lonely heart,
Like this soft harp, the plaything of each impulse,
The sport of every breath-I sate alone,
Listening for many minutes-the sounds ceased,
Or, though unnoted by the idle ear,

Were mingling with my thoughts-I thought of one,
And she was of the dead-she stood before me

With sweet sad smile, like the wan moon at midnight,
Smiling in silence on a world at rest-

I rushed away I mingled with the mirth
Of the noisy many-it is strange, that night,
With a light heart, with light and lively words,
I sported hours away, and yet there came

At times wild feelings-words will not express them;
But it seemed, that a chill eye gazed upon my heart,
That a wan cheek, with sad smile, upbraided me,
I felt that mirth was but a mockery,

Yet I was mirthful.

I lay down to sleep,

I did not sleep-I could not chuse but listen;

For o'er the wind-harp's strings the spirit came

With that same sweet low voice-yes, thou mayest smile,
But I must think, my friend, as then I thought,

That the voice was her's whose early death I mourned,
That she it was, who breathed those solemn notes,
Which like a spell possessed the soul.

I lay

Wakeful, the prey of many feverish feelings,
My thoughts were of the dead!- at length I slept,
If it indeed were sleep. She stood before me
In beauty-the wan smile had passed away-

The eye was bright-I could not bears its brightness.
Till now, I knew not death was terrible,
For seldom did I dwell upon the thought;
And if, in some wild moment, fancy shaped

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A world of the departed, 'twas a scene

Most calm and cloudless; or, if clouds at times,
Stained the blue quiet of the still soft sky,

They did not dim its charm, but suited well

The stillness of the scene, like thoughts that move
Silently o'er the soul, or linger there

Shedding a tender twilight pensiveness !
This is an idle song! I cannot tell

What charms were her's who died.-I cannot tell
What grief is their's, whose spirits weep for her!-
Oh, many were the agonies of prayer,

And many were the mockeries of hope;

And many a heart, that loved the weak delusion,

Looked forward for the rosy smiles of health

And many a rosy smile passed o'er that cheek

Which will not smile again-and the soft tinge

That often flushed across that fading face,

And made the stranger sigh, with friends would wake

A momentary hope-even the calm tone

With which she spoke of death, gave birth to thoughts,
Weak, trembling thoughts, that the lip uttered not.
And when she spoke with those, whom most she mourned

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To leave, and when through clear calm tears the eye
Shone with unwonted light, oh, was there not,
In its rich sparkle, something that forbade
The fear of death ?-and when, in life's last days,
The same gay spirit, that in happier hours
Had charactered her countenance, still gleamed
On the sunk features-when such playful words,
As once could scatter gladness on all hearts,
Still trembled from the lip, and o'er the souls
Of those who listened shed a deeper gloom --
In bours of such most mournful gaiety,
Oh, was there not even then a lingering hope,
That flitted fearfully, like parent birds,
Fast fluttering o'er their desolated nest?

Mourn not for her who died !-she lived as saints
Might pray to live-she died as Christians die ;
There was no earthward struggle of the heart,
No sbuddering terror-no reluctant sigh-
They, who beheld her dying, fear not death!
Silently-silently the spoiler came,

As sleep steals o'er the senses, unperceived,
And the last thoughts, that soothed the waking soul,
Mingle with sweet dreams. -Mourn not for her!
Oh, who art thou, that with weak words of comfort
Would'st bid the mourner not to weep ?-would'st win
The cheek of sorrow to a languid smile?
Thou dost not know with what a pious love

Grief dwells upon the dead!-thou dost not know

With what a holy zeal grief treasures up

All that recals the past!-when the dim eye
Rolls objectless around, thou dost not know

What forms are floating o'er the mourner's soul !
Thou dost not know with what a soothing art
Grief, that rejects man's idle consolations,
Makes to itself companionable friends

Of all that charmed the dead!-her robin still
Seeks at the wonted pane his morning crumbs,
And surely, not less dear for the low sigh

His visit wakes!-and the tame bird, who loved
To follow with gay wing her every step,
Who oft, in playful fits of mimicry,

Echoed her song, is dearer for her sake!

The wind, that from the hawthorn's dewy blossoms
Brings fragrance, breathes of her !—the moral lay
That last she loved to hear, with deeper charm
Speaks to the spirit now-even these low notes,
Breathed o'er her grave, will sink into the soul,
A pensive song that memory will love
In pensive moments.

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NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

We beg leave to inform our Correspondent “ A. B.” that we shall give an opinion of his communication in our June Number. We regret that it was out of our power to do so in this, although we had intended it.

We must plead the want of space for not giving a view of the transactions of most of the Religious Societies for the past year. We shall, however, attend to them in our next. With respect to the Continental Society, we would refer our readers to its own documents, attached to the Magazine.

"T. K." "R. F." and "Thiden," shall appear in our next.

We have to acknowledge the receipt of "L. B.” “J. K, M.” "Politelos," “Hiλos,” “ T.” “J. K." and "E." and other Communications to which we shall attend.

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