life to the efforts of Christian Missionaries. The awakening within the savage breast of those feelings and aspirations, which are the birthright of every man, has rendered him no longer content with the barest necessities of animal existence. He now calls for our ships to bring him cattle, wheat, sugar, and tea, to serve as his food; our cotton and woollen cloths to array him decently; our tools, machines, and implements of iron, to enable him to exercise some handicraft, and cultivate his hitherto untilled wilds; and even for our literature, to satisfy the new-born cravings of his mind. Now we cannot as a nation exert this influence, unless our own moral stand-point is not only carefully maintained, but even gradually advanced. Greece and Rome are witnesses how, when the moral element fails, material prosperity will depart with it. It is true that some of the choice productions of the artists of Greece, and the noblest actions of the warriors and statesmen of Rome, were achieved when corruption had reached its height; but, like the last bright flickerings of a fire, they were the precursors of speedy extinction; the last protests (made, alas! in vain) of the pure and noble element, against the overwhelming tide of degradation. Was it not under the powerful influence of moral responsibility, that the noblest works which the middle ages can boast were produced?

In the elder days of art

Builders wrought with curious care,

Each minute and unseen part;

For the gods see everywhere.

Is it not a fact, too, that in these days, the workmen actuated by these motives, are cæteris paribus, most to be relied upon for doing good work and plenty of it? If, as time advances, we are to experience increasingly severe competition, from new and unexpected quarters, how are we to combat it, and how hold our own against the world, but by the careful fostering of inventive genius, the conservation of a pure morality, increased attention to all that can render our workmen more capable, work producing creatures? That there is special need for this in South Staffordshire, the recently issued statistics on the subject, prove the percentage of persons unable to read or write, being much less than the average of all England. This ought not to be. We want reform in many directions: abuses in the management of men should be done away with; some check devised to the extravagant habits of our working population; greater economy attained in the getting of our minerals, and the processes of our manufacture; increased educational facilities for our busy workers; a more comprehensive sympathy between class and class. Under such conditions, we may look to the future of South Staffordshire without apprehension. And if our coal and iron should one day be exhausted, and the world not yet be ended, we have faith enough to believe that, as in the past, so in the future, God will enable men to discover fresh elements in his material treasure-house, which may supply the lack.

Election Intelligence,

FROM A CORRESPONDENT

BREWOOD, Friday, June 18. A few days since, the ancient and cosy town of Brewood was startled from its wonted quiet, under circumstances of a somewhat peculiar nature. Early in the afternoon a car drove up to the C- Hotel, from which alighted three strangers of distinguished appearance, who announced themselves as Lord Weller, a parliamentary aspirant, F. Grindsley, Esq., his Lordship's agent, and the Hon. Mr. Marsdale, Reporter of the Times newspaper. Having partaken of refreshments, they requested the awe-stricken landlord to call in the town crier. That worthy dignitary, who was enjoying himself in an ale-house hard by, duly made his appearance, upon which his Lordship's agent handed him the following announcement, with a request that it may be published through the town forthwith.

"To the Free and Independent Electors of Brewood.”

"The ancient town of Brewood, having just been constituted a parliamentary borough, Lord Weller, who has just arrived from town, begs to offer himself as a candidate for your suffrages, and will address the Electors, in front of the C- Hotel, immediately. God save the Queen!"

The effect of this remarkable announcement may be more readily imagined than described, the news of their new honours coming upon the inhabitants like a thunder-clap. Gentle and simple came forth with surprise from their homes, to hear more of this strange affair The space in front of the Hotel being rapidly crowded, Lord Weller, and his attendants stepped into their open carriage amid the greetings of the multitude. F. Grindsley, Esq., in a short but telling speech, introduced his Lordship, congratulating the inhabitants of Brewood upon the attainment of that social position to which they had been so long entitled, and upon the unusually eligible representative who now offered himself, who if elected, would, in the best sense of the term, be "the right man in the right place."

As his Lordship rose to speak, there was a renewed roar of applause. After stating that he was at present representing a town in Derbyshire, but that his estates lying nearer to Brewood, and the latter being altogether a more respectable place, he wished to change, he proceeded to read a multitude of letters from Managers of Benefit Societies, grateful Widows and Orphans, Charity Schools, &c., recording their devout gratitude for timely and generous assistance, the reading of which, actually drew tears from the crowd. Lord Weller then entered into an elaborate and eloquent exposition of his political creed, and concluded amid much huzzaing, by promising to represent them faithfully, if honoured with their confidence. At the close of his speech the more respectable burghers were so delighted with his lordship's conservative sentiments, that they dispensed liberal draughts of Brewood beer among the thirsty crowd, whose enthusiasm then became so great, that they unharnessed the bewildered steed and dragged the car in triumph through the streets. Loud shouts rent the air, again, and again cheers were given for Lord Weller and the new Borough of Brewood, which were renewed, when on their return to the hotel it was officially announced that his lordship would again address them from the hustings on

Monday next-great excitement prevailed for many hours after the departure of the illustrious visitors.

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LATER INTELLIGENCE.

Monday night. To day was fixed for the election, but the candidate has not re-appeared, exemplifying the motto that "prudence is the better part of valour"-for it appears that the three were no other than simple-hearted pleasure takers, from the neighbouring town of W-. We will not attempt to describe the fury of the inhabitants of Brewood on the discovery of the hoax.

In Memoriam.

Rev. Robert Inglis, Died June 5th, aged 53, Interred at West Bromwich Cemetry, June 11th.

On the 5th day of last month, died at Hill Top, after a long and severe affliction, the Reverend Robert Inglis, minister of the Wesleyan church there. He entered the ministry in 1832, and until his death continued to be an ornament to his profession, and a blessing to his charge. During a portion of his ministerial career, he laboured with marked success as a missionary in the West Indies. His shrewd practical wisdom, the depth and variety of his knowledge, his unwearied zeal and fervent piety, combined to render him apt to teach and prudent to direct.

As a preacher he possessed especial merits. His most unpremeditated utterances bore all the grace and completion of studied compositions, whilst his words were so fitly chosen, that the removal of one marred the beauty and injured the purpose of his sentences, as the withdrawal of a link from a chain or a stone from an arch! He spoke nothing meaningless or low, A peculiarity was observable in the converse of his hearers, that whilst they spoke of others' preaching, they referred to his sermons, showing that he had the rare faculty of attracting attention to the message rather than the man, and while engaged in its delivery, he "spoke as one having authority." Amongst the relationship sustained by him to various religious and educational movements, Mr. Inglis was connected with the 'Hill Top Young Men's Association,' to which, as far as his health and opportunities would allow, he rendered personal help. Himself a man of superior attainments, he warmly sympathised with every movement made for the spread of intelligence and the advancement of truth.

The day of his burial was gloomy, stormy, and dark. A solemn service was held over his remains, in the Wesleyan Chapel, which in its darkened windows and funeral draperies, presented outward symbols of the woe of the multitude within. An appropriate address was delivered by the venerable octogenarian preacher, the Rev. William Naylor, since whose own enrolment nearly fourteen hundred ministers have died.

In a pleasant quiet spot, of the beautifully situated cemetery, he lies; and being dead, he yet speaketh to us, that "whatsoever our hands find to do, we should do it with our might," and that the righteous alone in his death, hath "quietness and assurance for ever."

Hill Top, June 21st, 1862.

SAMUEL LEES, JUN.

Letters to the Editor.

To the Editor of the "WILLENHALL MAGAZINE.”

SIR,

During the short existence of your magazine, it has given publicity to many pompous declamations and much loud dogmatism on such subjects as Shams, Masks, Honesty, &c., &c. I have seen too much of life, not to know how far easier it is to make large professions of good and fair, than to practise the least moiety of the same. It is partly to test your good faith, that I trouble you with this communication. If you would, as you proclaim, 'do justly,' and if you are strong enough to bear a little criticism, then I ask a little space for this, which I trust is written with due regard to the laws of decorum, and to the patience of your readers.

Having known you and your coadjutors some time, when I heard that you were about to commence a local periodical, I certainly expected something rather creditable to Willenhall. I have not been wholly deceived; there has been, so far, much of good, but yet also something of evil, Your May number, for instance, contains two things to which I decidedly object, viz: 'The Bachelor's Song,' and something at the end headed 'Private.' I have a few words to say concerning the former, but as to the latter, it was, in my opinion, calculated to injure your magazine seriously. It was in bad taste, devoid of the appearance of truth, incapable of serving any reasonable purpose. Just for a moment suppose, sir, how it would be read, what feelings it would produce in the bulk of your readers, who, I judge, are of the respectable middle class. I imagine the majority of them would set you down a mark lower, because of that crude, incongruous thing. I will charitably suppose it to have been a slip, an oversight, yet still it was an undoubted blot.

Now for the 'The Bachelor's Song.' I felt inclined at first to dismiss it, by saying it was a trite, foolish, rhigmelet. I guessed at once who was the writer; it sounds just like one of his jokes. Only a joke; for I do not for a moment, suppose that young man seriously to entertain such barbarous sentiments as his verses expressed. But your readers, not knowing the writer, may take the effusion to be actually the belief of some human being, and under your editorial sanction too. Except as a joke, however, the lines are monstrous. They could never express the true faith of any heart, but that of one who has for ever forfeited his manhood, and whom we, with great justice, call very hard names. Such trash about a bachelor's life! A bachelor's life, sir, is an impudent breach of one of the first laws of the universe. No fit theme for a joke is this.

Years ago, I was addicted to poetry, but my hand has forgotten something of its cunning, else I would lightly tilt a lance against this youthful prater of

bachelor's joys, and chant a hearty roundelay in praise of wedded life. It is a noble and sacred subject, and rich with the most venerable and authoritative sanctions, even with the sanction of high heaven. I am too old to talk of 'throbbings of love,' 'breathings of heart,' and the like; but I can turn to my wife, as she sits by my side on summer noonday or winter eve, and in the fulness of calm, actual love, thank heaven for her presence. I love Love. It is a rare and precious treasure, and the strongest thing in the wide world. Very truly, says the poet,

"Holy and wondrous, beautiful Thou art,

O strength of Love! who is there that would part
With that best music of the beating heart.

Ye cannot drown it when the wild winds rave,
It hath a voice which Time and Death can brave;
For Love's undying echo finds no earthly grave."

But in plain prose I say, that for a young man, a good, true, loving wife, is a peerless blessing: a blessing that will save him from the brutish vices of those bachelors' who verily ought to be treated as pariahs in society, too filthy to be gazed upon or touched; a blessing that will train, and strengthen, prepare him for the noblest enterprises and most honorable uses.

If, sir, I have spoken somewhat strongly, I must plead as excuse, that I feel so, and I must claim also the privilege of grey hairs. I have always looked upon bachelors as waifs in society, monsters, unnatural creations, for whom there is no place in the present orders of things.

In conclusion, one word of advice. Young man, hear me! Whether you would walk quietly and pleasantly through the vale of life, or aer fretted with dreams of noble ambition, and have resolved to do greatly; whether you have a pathway before you, pleasant with sunshine and music and flowers, or the road be uphill and rugged and dreary; for your own sake, and the sake of society; that you may win the smile of men and angels, and escape the laughter of the fallen ones; get a good wife! and God bless you both. I crave pardon, sir, if I have too much trespassed on your space, or the patience of your readers, and subscribe myself,

Little London, Willenhall.

Yours very truly,

X. Y.

Local Register.

THE 'Willenhall Athenæum' is now only a name, but we have good ground for hope that it will shortly commence a more substantial existence. The Building Committee of the Literary Society, convinced at last of the trustlessness of large benefactors, have determined, by their own efforts, to carry out the long proposed scheme. Several business-like meetings have lately been held, and we entertain no manner of doubt that a good site will shortly be procured, and a creditable erection appear thereon. In our next number, we shall probably give a few particulars concerning a Grand Bazaar, to be