without a pedestal, you could not depreciate the height of that statue by remarking that its feet rest on the ground. Yet men attempt this, when, to detract from personal eminence, they declare that this or that superior man does not stand on the pyramid of renowned ancestry-on the golden mound of wealth on the pedestal of unmerited patronage-but on the low level of ordinary parentage and of common circumstance. What if Wolsey were a butcher's son? An honest butcher is better than a dishonest nobleman, and the gifted son of a butcher is superior to the foolish son of a king. There is much surely in this name 'butcher,' as in all names of trades. If butchers would call themselves animal-diet-merchants-designate their apprentices articled pupils-call their shops, warehouses their aprons, ventrales-their blocks, mensa lanioniatheir cleavers, concisors-they would at once rise in the scale of society. Do not forget that the book which commands you to honour the king, and which, with reference to all in authority, requires you to render their dues-bids you also

Honor all men."

Agreeing with Mr. Martin, that "Contrasts are useful in the exhibition of character," we may direct the particular attention of our readers to the last lecture," Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, Bart.," by the Rev. Thomas Binney, one of the most charming and philosophical pieces of biography we have ever met with. As an attempt to show how great men are made— what must be the raw material, and by what processes it must be elaborated this little book is eminently successful. But with one golden sentence, after advising all our young friends to lay out sixpence in purchasing the work itself, we must conclude our notice.

"His maxims of study were like himself. The principle that pervades them may be applied by you, not only to studies of a literary sort, but to anything in business that demands force and fixedness of attention. They were these: "Never to begin a book without finishing it;' never to consider a book finished till it is mastered;' and 'to study everything with a whole mind.' Now I want you to remember that this 'wholemindedness' was one of the most remarkable things about Sir Fowell Buxton, and one of the great secrets of his success in

life. Whatever he thought worth doing at all, he thought worth doing well. He was hearty, earnest, fixed, united ;—his whole soul, as it were, was knit and compressed together, and bent and concentrated on the point before him. He could be attracted for the time by nothing else. He was equally thus in his business and at his books. 'I could brew,' he says, 'one hour; do mathematics the next; and shoot the next;-and each with my whole soul.' The reading of such a man was not something between waking and sleeping, or thinking and dreaming; the reception of impressions made one moment to be obliterated the next; but a great and resolute work—a battle and a victory. The subject studied by the whole mind was taken up by the whole mind. All the faculties apprehended and had it; it was their common property, and was passed with facility from one to another as a familiar thing:-the memory suggesting it to the reason; the reason handing it to the fancy; the fancy throwing it to the passions;-till it came out in language from the lips-plain or polished, cut by logic or colored by imagery-as might best serve the purpose of its possessor. By this mental entireness-this throwing of himself in all the strength and bulk of his whole being right down upon his subject, he thoroughly mastered it. It was henceforth his. It was hard work, however, remember. He owed nothing to 'genius' in anything he did, and nothing to 'inspiration' in any thing he uttered. He had no faith in either, for public men;— and he knew that he had neither to trust to, himself. He never trusted to them; or, if ever he did, he was ashamed of the presumption. He early obtained, and encouraged the belief, that he could do as well as others, if he gave double the time and labor to the attempt! A very modest, but a very safe and salutary persuasion!"

Disloyalty and disaffection, it must be allowed, hold fearful pre-eminence amongst the sins of the day; and to no class of persons is it more needful to exhibit these things in their own frightful colors than to the young men of London. Is it possible that on this point they can mistake the manly out-spokenness of Dr. Cumming?

"And how stands it with us? Why such an audience as this dare not at this moment assemble in any capital of Europe.

When a few sprinklings of the dark thunder-cloud fell upon us last spring-and some few thousand of those eccentric phenomena called Chartists-a few specimens of whose crotchets should be embalmed in the British Museum-rose and threatened more than they meant, or could, our most gracious queen had but to give the sign, and her prime minister but to stamp his foot, and every street was lined with loyal citizens; and while Vive this, and Vive that, was roaring from the volcanic orifice of every capital of Europe, God save the Queen' rose from Old England's heart like a peal of thunder; Chartist pikemen and French democrats disappeared in their dens-some preparatory to a move to Botany Bay, and others to Bridewell; and were we summoned again, I venture to assert there is not a young man in this vast audience who would not rise and rally round the throne, and shew that love to God, and loyalty to our queen are inseparable twins.”

Nor less worthy of recording here is the personal experience of a witness to the late overthrow of the French monarchy. "The French Revolution of 1848," by the Rev. William Arthur, is a graphic and deeply interesting sketch, from which this important moral is elicited.

that very class of which Let such a judgment as

"May I be indulged for a moment to notice a lesson or two which this revolution teaches. First, then, it proves that we greatly err when we speak of a class of our people who have nothing to lose by a revolution. What! a class in existence who have nothing to lose by the cessation of confidence, the stagnation of trade, by disorder, bloodshed, and civil war! The class that loses most bitterly is we speak as having nothing to lose. has overtaken France overtake us, and they that have much would lose much, but they that have little would lose all. Not a weaver in Lancashire, not a miner in Cornwall, not a collier in Northumberland, not a porter in the streets of London, not one of the lowest of your menials, or the most destitute of your paupers, but would suffer and suffer deeply. Every sweeper in your streets would find some good contributor who could contribute no more. Every beggar would find some kind hand empty. In such a season, they that lose most pinchingly are they from whom a little loss removes their all. Starvation

then first enters those doors upon whose threshold he has stood even in prosperous times. Young men, remember this in your politics, that there is no class of British subjects, not even the paupers in your workhouses, who would not lose by civil war and civil disorder.

"Another lesson is, gratitude for our own peace. And, oh! let not our gratitude be the mere exultation of national pride. The eye that has watched over us in this year of storms, does not expect to see, in return, a swelling of self-congratulation, but a throb of devout thanksgiving. God's hand has been in our preservation, and God should have humble praise. Yes, gentlemen, the moments of 1848 seem now to return around us, and as every one presents itself spotted with the blood of a man, it calls upon us to thank God that it is not English blood. Realize your mercies. Thank God that you have not seen the whole town bristling with barricades; that you have not seen Cheapside exchange the stir of commerce for the roar of cannon; that you have not seen men from Field Lane standing sentry at the Horse Guards; that you have not seen the peasantry of the Midland, Eastern, Northern, and Western counties coming armed to the teeth to meet men of London in deadly war. Thank God, that during the year no sabbath has come, when, instead of the "church-going bell," you heard the murderous artillery; that, during the year, you have never walked through the Strand when you had to choose your steps lest you should walk upon the blood of your fellow citizens; that you have never once returned home to tell how many men you have seen shot before your eyes. All this has occurred in Paris, in Naples, in Vienna, in Berlin. It has not occurred with us. Oh! let us from our hearts thank God. His mercy has guided our government and people. We have reposed, while others have bled. His goodness is over us still. That noble old structure which our fathers reared to shelter their liberties of body and soul-that brave old constitution is erect still, and under its shade we can each, according to his light, worship our Heavenly Father without any penalty, and work our secular purposes without any oppression.

"The last lesson I would learn from all this, is the prime importance of a Christianized populace. It is of necessity that

information shall spread. As the people read more, they will take more interest in political questions, and move with greater intelligence and effect in public struggles. If their principles are left unformed by wise and religious training, they will be at the mercy of their own evil passions, and of turbulent leaders. Had not God favoured this country with a remarkable spread of Christian light and principle during the last century, who will venture to say that the revolutions of this year would not have found our people in a condition that none of our statesmen could have controlled? An unchristianized populace is perpetual danger. But imbue the whole population with Christian principle, and they will not rashly burst into civil war; when they have rights to seek, they will be sought with calmness and dignity. Public order can have no security so effectual as the spread of real piety among the populace. Nor can the populace themselves have any security for their own liberties nearly so effectual. Let them not suppose that we would seek to make them religious in order that they might tamely submit to wrongs. No; but that they might irresistibly acquire rights. Any people that are liable to violent outbursts are, of necessity, exposed to military oppression. But to a people of Christian principles, observing personal and family religion; keeping holy the sabbath day, cherishing Bible precepts, and wise in Bible light, no government would ever attempt to turn with soldier tyranny. Such a people would stand sublimely before their rulers; their worth would make them mighty. Rulers would rejoice to make such a people free, and in conceding liberty would not fear for order. A calm and pious populace would surely advance in all their rights; a passionate and irreligious populace bring oppression on their own heads. It was very natural that, when the people appeared on a barricade, General Cavaignac should meet them with cannons and cuirassiers. But what could cannons and cuirassiers have done the other day before this Hall when it was filled with our people of whom a thousand had been writing on the sanctities of the Lord's day? A cannon presented against such an assembly! the general does not breathe who would dare to attempt it. Yes, a truly pious people will be a security for their government, and a protection for themselves. A people addicted to the