Locke, it appears, originally applied himself to the study of physic; and he became essentially serviceable in his medical capacity to Lord Ashley, afterwards the celebrated Earl of Shaftesbury, to whom he was introduced in 1666, and who was led to form so high an opinion of Locke’s general powers, that he prevailed upon Locke to take up his residence at his house, and urged him to apply his studies to politics and philosophy.  This proved the stepping-stone to his subsequent greatness; and it is gratifying to learn that his career, literary and political, was closed as honourably as it had been commenced.  His last publications were in a controversy with the celebrated Bishop Stillingfleet, who had censured some passages in Locke’s immortal “Essay.”  The prelate yielded to the more powerful reasoning of the philosopher, yet Locke’s writing was uniformly distinguished by mildness and urbanity.  At this time he held the post of commissioner of trade and plantations.  An asthmatic complaint, with which he had long been afflicted, now began to increase, and, with the rectitude which distinguished the whole of his conduct, he resigned:  the sovereign, (William) was very unwilling to receive Locke’s resignation; but the philosopher, who made his precepts his own rule of life, pressed the point, observing that he could not in conscience hold a situation to which a considerable salary was attached without performing the duties of it.  Would that such political philosophy were more common in our days!  From this time, Locke lived wholly in retirement, where he applied himself to the study of the Scriptures, till, in 1704, after nearly two years’ declining health, he fell asleep.  He was buried at Oates, where there is a neat monument erected to his memory, with a modest Latin inscription indited by himself.

* * * * *

THE KNIGHT OF TOGGENBURG.

From the German of Schiller.

(For the Mirror.)

  “Knight, a sister’s truest love,
    This mine heart devotes to thee—­
  Ask no other love to prove;
    Marriage! no, that ne’er can be. 
  Still unmov’d to all appearing,
    Calmly can I see thee fly—­
  Still break the chain no sorrow fearing,
    Save a tear from lover’s eye.”

  This he heard without replying,
    Silent woes his bosom wrung;
  In his arms he clasp’d her sighing—­
    On his courser’s back he sprung. 
  Thro’ the Switzer’s rugged land
    Vassals, at their lord’s behest,
  Sought Judea’s sainted strand—­
    Each the red-cross on his breast.

  Mighty deeds all dangers braving
    Wrought the Christian hero’s arm;
  Oft his helmet plumes were waving
    High above the Paynim swarm.[2]
  But tho’ Moslem hosts were quaking
    At the Toggenburger’s name,
  Still his breast, with anguish breaking,
    Felt its sorrow yet the same: