OH! to be in England now that April 's there,
And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning,

unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England-now!

And after April, when May follows,

And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover

Blossoms and dewdrops-at the bent spray's edgeThat's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice

over

Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!

And, though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew.
The buttercups, the little children's dower,
-Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

ROBERT BROWNING.

"FOR knowledge is a steep which few may climb, While duty is a path which all may tread."

I think it will be admitted by those who know anything of the life of Richard Cobden that he trod what he believed to be the path of duty, and trod it with a firm and unfaltering footstep; and when I look upon this statue which is now before us, so like him, so spotless, as was his name and character, I will say that I trust his following of the path of duty will have many imitators, and that from this stainless marble, and from those voiceless lips, there may be taught a perpetual lesson to many generations. But let me add, that this which you have erected to-day is by no means the greatest monument that has been built up to him. There is one far grander and of wider significance. There is not a homestead in the country in which there is not added comfort from his labours, not a cottage the dwellers in which have not steadier employment, higher wages, and a more solid independence. This is his enduring monument. He worked for these ends and for these great purposes, and he worked almost to the very day when the lamp of life went out. He is gone; but his character, his deeds, his life, his example remain a possession to us his countrymen.

And let this be said of him for generations to come, as long as the great men of England are spoken of in the English language; let it be said of him that he gave the labours of a life that he might confer upon his countrymen perfect freedom of industry, and with it not that blessing only, but its attendant blessings of plenty and of peace.

JOHN BRIGHT.

Richard Cobden died in London, 1865. Unveiling of the Cobden Statue at Bradford, 1877.

LESSONS Sweet of spring returning,
Welcome to the thoughtful heart!
May I call ye sense or learning,

Instinct pure, or heaven-taught art?
Be your title what it may,

Sweet the lengthening April day,
While with you the soul is free,
Ranging wild o'er hill and lea.

Soft as Memnon's harp at morning,
To the inward ear devout,

Touch'd by light, with heavenly warning
Your transporting chords sing out.

Every leaf in every nook,

Every wave in every brook,

Chanting with a solemn voice,

Minds us of our better choice.

See the soft, green willows springing
Where the waters gently pass,
Every way her free arms flinging
O'er the moist and reedy grass.

Long ere winter blasts are fled
See her tipp'd with vernal red,
And her kindly flower display'd
Ere her leaf can cast a shade.

Though the rudest hand assail her,
Patiently she droops awhile;

But when showers and breezes hail her,
Wears again her willing smile.

Thus I learn Contentment's power
From the slighted willow bower,
Ready to give thanks and live

On the least that Heaven may give.

JOHN KEBLE.

AND one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he went into the Pharisee's house, and sat down to meat. And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying: This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him: Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith: Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said: I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him: Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon: Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he saith unto her: Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves: Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman: Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace. LUKE Vii. 36-50.

"FOR who hath despised the day of small things?"

ZECH. iv.. IO.

TRUE worth is in being, not seeming,-
In doing each day that goes by
Some little good-not in the dreaming
Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in blindness,
And spite of the fancies of youth,
There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.

We get back our mete as we measure-
We cannot do wrong and feel right,
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure,-
For justice avenges each slight.
The air for the wing of the sparrow,
The bush for the robin and wren,

But always the path that is narrow
And straight, for the children of men.

ALICE CARY.