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signed for the purpose, and thus the immense quantity of seed-oysters are saved, which on natural banks fall an easy prey to countless devourers. These are sold as Native Brood to dealers in the article, and conveyed to artificial ponds or reservoirs, called oyster-parks. These receptacles, which are often of vast size, have a floor of clean stone slabs, covered with ine sand, on which the small oysters are carefully laid on the proper side, and a little inclined. The sea-water is made to enter gently, so as not to wash sand into the shells, which would kill them instantly, and rises and falls with the tide outside. If the oysters are to be very large and of light color, each tide must bring fresh water; but if they are to be delicate and of finer taste, the water is allowed to remain some time in the basins, so as to favor the development of the microscopic plants, which are always present in sea-water and largely form the food of the oyster. Here they are kept generally three or four years, till they have reached a good size and are considered fit for consumption. So far, their education has been left largely to Nature; but now additional steps are taken to perfect their condition, if they are to bring specially high prices. They are stored in large, shallow vats, where they gradually get rid of the taste of mud, which many still have, especially when they come from beds and banks situated at the mouths of rivers. Here they are simply kept in fresh sea-water; the method of fattening them with oatmeal having been given up, as the throwing in of dead stuff only makes the water foul and the oyster sick, and because very fat oysters are considered, like prize cattle, none the better for overfeeding.

Such oyster-farms exist now in large numbers, mainly in England, where a single private oyster-park, near Whitstable, is valued at two millions of dollars; and in France, where the Government, true to its fostering policy, supports the enterprises by every means in its power.

When the poor oyster leaves these vats, it approaches its tragic end, which it reaches only after much tribulation. The journey to the landing-place, whether it be a pier in the river or a railwaystation, is generally pleasant enough; they are transported carefully, travel in good company, and are occasionally refreshed by supplies of new sea-water. But when they arrive, the bad treatment begins; they are pushed into baskets, tossed into barrels, pitched on carts, fortunate, yet, if a kind hand brings them at intervals a pittance of water. Too often, however, the same hand gives them a stone instead of a loaf, for the common error still prevails, that salt and common well-water will do as well-a cruel mistake, since it is neither the salt nor the water which sustains the life of an oyster, but the abundance of invisible plant-seeds and microscopic spores contained in seawater, which kitchen-salt kills on the spot. At last they reach their goal: if handsome, well-shaped, and well-flavored, they are introduced to the palaces of the rich and the noble, to give, like wits and poets, additional relish to their sumptuous feasts; but if sturdy, thickbacked, strong-tasting creatures, Fate consigns them to the capacious tubs of common carters; they are dosed with coarse black pepper and pungent vinegar, and depart this life, partly embalmed after the manner of ancient Pharaohs.

THE MAPLE-TREE.

AN April day with April showers
Had burst the buds of lagging flowers.
From their fresh leaves the violet's eyes
Mirrored the deep blue of the skies;
The daffodils, in clustering ranks,
Fringed with their spears the garden-banks,
And, with the blooms I love so well,
Their paper buds began to swell;
While every bush and every tree
Bourgeoned with flowers of melody;
From the quick Robin with his range
Of silver notes, a warbling change
Which he from sad to merry drew,
A sparkling shower of tuneful dew-
To the brown sparrow in the wheat,
A plaintive whistle, clear and sweet.
Over my head the royal sky
Spread, clear from cloud, its canopy;
The idle noon slept, warm and wide,
On misty hill and river-side;
And, far below me, glinting lay
The mirror of the azure bay.

I stood beneath the maple-tree;
Its crimson blooms enchanted me,
Its subtle perfume haunted me,
And drew me thither unaware,
A nameless influence in the air.

Its boughs were hung with murmuring bees
Who robbed it of its sweetnesses;

Their cheerful hymning, loud and strong,
Drowned with its bass the robin's song,
And filled the noontide April air
With Labor's universal prayer.
I paused to listen; soon I heard
A sound of neither bee nor bird,
A sullen murmur mix'd with cheer,
That rose and fell upon the ear
As the wind might, yet, far away,
Unstirred the sleeping river lay,
And even across the hillside wheat,
No silvery ripples wandered fleet.

It was the murmur of the town
No song of bird or bee could drown.
The rattling wheels along the street,
The pushing crowd with hasty feet,
The school-boy's call, the gossip's story,
The lawyer's purchased oratory,
The glib-tongued shopman with his wares,
The chattering school-girl with her airs,

VOL. II.-28

The bells that bade the bridal hail,
The new-born infant's lusty wail,
The moaning sick man on his bed,
The coffin nailing for the dead,

The factory's wheels that, round and round,
Forever turn, and with their sound

Make the young children deaf to all
God's voices that about them call,

Sweet sounds of bird, and wind, and wave,

And life no gladder than a grave.

These myriad-mingled human voices,
These intertwined and various noises,
Made up the murmur that I heard
Through the sweet hymn of bee and bird.
I said, "If all these sounds of life
With which this noon-tide air is rife,
These busy murmurings of the bee
Robbing the honeyed maple-tree,

These warblings of the song-birds' voices
With which the blooming hedge rejoices,
These harsher mortal chords that rise
To mar Earth's anthem, to the skies,-
If all these sounds fall on my ear

So little varying, yet so near,
How can I tell if God can know

A cry of human joy or woe

From the loud humming of the bee,
Or the blithe robin's melody?

God sitteth somewhere in His heaven.
About Him sing the planets seven;
With every thought a world is made
To grow in sun, or droop in shade;
He holds creation like a flower
In His right hand, an idle hour;
It fades, it dies: another's bloom
Makes his air sweet with fresh perfume.
Or did He listen on that day

To what the rolling world might say,
Or did He mark as, one by one,
Its gliding hours in light were spun ;
And, if He heard the double hymn
The earth sent up to honor Him,
Which song was sweeter in His ear,
Which murmur did He gladlier hear?

THE PROTESTANT PROTEST AGAINST PROTESTANTISM.

THE Ritualistic movement in the English Church was, in its origin, and considered as to its first purpose, a reform. It began at least thirty-five years ago, when Dr. Pusey, the regius-professor of Hebrew at Oxford, and others who thought like him, published the celebrated Tracts for the Times. The Tractarianism of that day was the parent of Ritualism. It was a reform, we have said; for, while it is impossible to disguise its wrong tendencies, we must in simple candor concede its original purity. It arose in connection with a reawakening of the English Church, which had to a great degree lost its spiritual vitality. The Tractarians, notwithstanding the remarkable difference as to the proposed means of effecting their reformation, and as to some of their ulterior objects, started with a purpose similar to that which moved the Dissenters of the last century. It is true that with the intention of a spiritual revival the likeness ends, but that intention is exactly what we here insist upon. Let it be that one movement goes on at present within the pale of the English Church, while the other sought to reach its ends by separation; grant, also, that the one was essentially Protestant, while the other tends toward Rome-still this truth remains, that both aimed at a spiritual revival. If in this aim the Dissenters succeeded in their way, we have also to concede a similar success to the Tractarians. The church was moved by their efforts. Their deep earnestness has revolutionized the preaching of the English clergy; instead of a mere doctrinal essay, or homily on the advantages of a virtuous life, the sermon has become an effective exposition of home-truths and an earnest appeal to the human heart. Charitable organizations, particularly those for the benefit of the poor and of the outcast, have received a new and vital

izing impulse. The prime leaders in this reform, moreover, are well known as men of profound thought and pure life. Is it any wonder, then, that this new influence has not been confined in its effects to the clergy, but has also awakened enthusiasm among the laity?

But the Tractarians had ulterior objects, looking beyond a spiritual revival. They arrayed themselves against the invasion of positive and aggressive rationalism-against the resistance vigorously opposed to all authority, human and divine, when, as the Bishop of Oxford says, "every opinion, every institution, almost every fact, in politics, in history, in morals, and in religion, were assailed; and upon the Established Church, which was naturally the very central point of the revolving cyclone, the storm burst in all its fury." Between the church and this violent opposition stood the Tractarians. And as they looked out from their watch-towers upon the besieging enemy, it was only natural that they should contemplate the character of the struggle and carefully scrutinize the weapons used against them. They accordingly reasoned thus: "This is the development of Protestantism. For three centuries there has been a rapid progress of the human intellect, and here is the result: Human Reason, proud of its achievements in science, in the mechanic arts, and in culture, now advances claims which threaten to destroy the religious instincts of the race." This is the old argument, of which the advocates of Romanism never weary.

Thus the movement which we are considering may fairly be called a reaction against Protestantism. Nor was this disguised by its leaders. The Rev. R. H. Froude (father of the historian), an ardent fellow-laborer with Dr. Pusey, distinctly announced his desire "to unprotestantize the church," and spoke of the Protestant Reformation as a

limb badly set, which required to be broken again." Attributing to Protestantism all the evils which threatened Christianity, the Tractarians could suggest no better remedy than a return to the Anglo-Catholic faith of the sixteenth century. Here we find the motive which brought out the Tracts for the Times. Old questions which had slumbered since the Reformation were revived. During the silence of centuries the English Church, while maintaining the external form of the ritual and of the sacraments, as it had been left by the Reformers, had allowed the greatest possible variety of subjective belief among its members. If we were to select any single aspect of that church which appears to us the most commendable, it would be this toleration of various beliefs; indeed, this toleration is a fundamental characteristic of Protestantism itself. Take, for example, the Eucharist. The external form in which the sacrament is presented in the English Church is for all believers the same (or was before the Ritualistic advent); but to one the material elements may be simply spiritual symbols, while to another they appear informed with the veritable body and blood of Christ. As to this, Jeremy Taylor truly says: "It were better it were left to every man to think as he pleases; for there was peace in the church for a thousand years, while they were satisfied with believing heartily without inquiring anxiously." Surely, the best policy was to exclude this sacrament from the list of "vexed questions." What the evil effects of the opposite policy are we see clearly in the controversy which arose the moment the Real Presence was lately insisted upon by the Ritualists. The church was forthwith divided into two parties, one of which pronounced the doctrine of Consubstantiation "hideous and carnal," while the other branded all disbelievers of the doctrine as "on the side of Antichrist."

The Tractarians revived this doctrine, as also that of baptismal regeneration, and, by summoning them from the sanctuary of individual faith, made them

the subjects of theological dispute. Before the same tribunal they cited the doctrines relating to justification by works, the apostolic succession of the clergy, the supreme authority of the church, auricular confession, and conventual establishments, and imparted to them the same significance which is given them by Roman Catholics. Each one of these doctrines, advanced in this form, became aggressive, and constituted a separate ground for the renewal of a controversy long since either buried, or transferred to the forum of private judgment and belief.

One of these doctrines-that of the supreme authority of the church-a reaffirmation of the decision of the Council of Trent, that tradition is of equal authority with Scripture, was a formal annulment of Protestantism. For the primary and distinctive feature of the Protestant Reformation was its revolt against the imperative authority of tradition. It was only by the absolute denial of this authority that a basis was furnished for resistance to those claims of the Papacy, upon which rested its oppressive intolerance and its assumption of temporal as well as of spiritual supremacy over Christendom. The Papal ritual, with its elaborate symbolism and its splendid vestiture; the vast and impressive material superstructure which had been erected above the simple faith of apostolic times, and which, while assuming to express that faith, had in reality crushed it, and become a splendid mausoleum, built by human pretension over the ruins of a divinely-appointed church; the superstitious reverence for images and relics, involving inevitably the degradation. and possible extinction of a spiritual religion; the complex system of saintworship, which, to a great degree, substituted the intercession of departed martyrs and other canonized worthies for the propitiatory sacrifice of a crucified Saviour; the creation of a new kingdom of Purgatory-unknown to Scripture, but finding its type in the pagan Hades-peopled by departed souls, incapable alike of evil and of well-doing, for whom the sufferings of

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