ed by the mere sportsman. We shall not pursue the argument farther, but only add that Physicus was prevailed on "to spend one May day in this idle occupation."

Poietes, in conformity with the character which he represents, frequently expatiates with much feeling on the beauties of nature. In this spirit, at the mention of a river, he pursues the familiar analogy between a river and human life, and amplifies the idea in a beautiful manner.

Hal. We will endeavor to secure a fine day; two hours in a light carriage with good horses, will carry us to our ground; and I think I can promise you green meadows, shady trees, the song of the nightingale, and a full clear river.

Poiet. This last is, in my opinion, the most poetical object in nature. Pliny has, as well as I recollect, compared a river to human life. I have never read the passage in his works, but I have been a hundred times struck with the analogy, particularly amidst mountain scenery. The river, small and clear in its origin, gushes forth from rocks, falls into deep glens, and wantons and meanders through a wild and picturesque country, nourishing only the uncultivated tree or flower by its dew or spray. In this, its state of infancy and youth, it may be compared to the human mind, in which fancy and strength of imagination are predominant-it is more beautiful than useful. When the different rills or torrents join, and descend into the plain, it becomes slow and stately in its motions; it is applied to move machinery, to irrigate meadows, and to bear upon its bosom the stately barge; in this mature state it is deep, strong, and useful. As it flows on towards the sea, it loses its force and its motion; and at last, as it were, becomes lost and mingled with the mighty abyss of waters.

Halieus, in a more philosophical strain, proceeds:

Hal.-One might pursue the metaphor still farther, and say, that in its origin-its thundering and foam, when it carries down clay from the bank, and becomes impure, it resembles the youthful mind, affected by dangerous passions. And the influence of a lake, in calming and clearing the turbid water, may be compared to the effect of reason in more mature life, when the calm, deep, cool and unimpassioned mind is freed from its fever, its troubles, bubbles, noise, and foam. And, above all, the sources of a river, -which may be considered as belonging to the atmosphere, and its termination in the ocean, may be regarded as imaging the divine origin of the human mind, and its being ultimately returned to, and lost in, the Infinite and Eternal Intelligence from which it originally sprung.

It is not very clear what is meant by the concluding sentiment. Were it not for other passages in this work, in which the author's belief in the distinct, individual existence of man in another world is clearly indicated, we might construe this passage as savoring of infidelity. An allusion to the same subject occurs afterwards, when the party have been listening to an interesting account from Halieus, of the insect tribes.

Poiet. -Even in a moral point of view, I think the analogies derived from the transformation of insects, admit of some beautiful applications,

which have not been neglected by pious entomologists. The three states of the caterpillar, larva, and butterfly, have, since the time of the Greek poets, been applied to typify the human being-its terrestrial form, apparent death, and ultimate celestial destination; and it seems more extraordinary, that a sordid and crawling worm should become a beautiful and active fly-that an inhabitant of the dark and fetid dunghill, should in an instant entirely change its form, rise into the blue air, and enjoy the sunbeams, than that a being, whose pursuits here have been after an undying name, and whose present happiness has been derived from the acquisition of intellectual power, and finite knowledge, should rise hereafter into a state of being, where immortality is no longer a name, and ascend to the Source of unbounded power and infinite wisdom.

The following account of the swallow is highly characteristic of a lover of nature, and reminds us of Wilson's Ornithology.

Poiet. I delight in this living landscape! The SWALLOW is one of my favorite birds, and a rival of the nightingale; for he glads my sense of seeing, as much as the other does my sense of hearing. He is the joyous prophet of the year-the harbinger of the best season: he lives a life of enjoyment amongst the loveliest forms of nature: winter is unknown to him; and he leaves the green meadows of England in autumn, for the myrtle and orange groves of Italy, and for the palms of Africa:-he has always objects of pursuit, and his success is secure. Even the beings selected for his prey are poetical, beautiful, and transient. The ephemera are saved by his means from a slow and lingering death in the evening, and are killed in a moment, when they have known nothing of life but pleasure. He is the constant destroyer of insects, the friend of man; and with the stork and the ibis, may be regarded as a sacred bird. His instinct, which gives him his appointed seasons, and which teaches him always when and where to move, may be regarded as flowing from a Divine Source; and he belongs to the Oracles of Nature, which speak the awful and intelligible language of a present Deity.

We have conceded to this party, combining as it does the different tastes and resources of the philosopher, the naturalist, and the poet, great advantages for deriving pleasure from the scenery, productions, and phenomena of nature. Still we think that a most important element of the character designed to be portrayed is left out, or at least admitted in small proportion. In order to derive the greatest possible happiness from the contemplation of nature; to the taste and enthusiasm of the poet, and the wisdom of the philosopher, must be added the devotional spirit of the christian. The susceptibility and refined taste of the poet, are essential to the full perception of natural beauty and sublimity; but these emotions are transient, and soon leave the mind vacant, if it has not the power of extending its views into those ulterior. inquiries, which the spirit of the philosopher suggests. The charms of the landscape excite the imagination of the one with a sudden but momentary ecstacy; the phenomena and laws of nature, feed the mind of the other with more permanent delight. But after the transitory excitement of a

poetical taste has passed away, and the calmer pleasures of philo-
sophy have taken their turn, then the spirit of devotion remains,
which knows no satiety, but swells with constantly increasing ado-
ration at the wisdom of the Creator; and the longer it looks, the
more it kindles with grateful admiration at the benevolence discern-
ible in all his works. We do not hesitate therefore to assert, that
the mere poet, or the mere philosopher, or even one who unites
the spirit of both, and has nothing more, has never known the full
amount of enjoyment to be derived from the study and contempla-
tion of nature;-a superior class of pleasures lie beyond him,
which it requires another sense to perceive. His emotions stop
short of that climax which prompts to the exclamation, "O Lord,
our Lord! how excellent is thy name in all the earth!”
The poet
and naturalist can accompany our Savior in his admiration of the
fowls of the air and of the lilies of the field, arrayed in a richer
drapery than Solomon in all his glory; but they cannot accompany
him, as the christian can, in the more delightful and instructive ap-
plication, nor awake from the transient ecstacy to which they have
been suddenly raised in the admiration of vegetable beauty or ani-
mal instinct, to a settled and joyful trust in him who thus feeds the
ravens, and clothes the grass of the field.

The soul that sees Him, or receives sublim'd
New faculties, or learns at least t' employ
More worthily the pow'rs she own'd before,
Discerns in all things, what with stupid gaze
Of ignorance till then she overlook'd—
A ray of heav'nly light, gilding all forms
Terrestrial, in the vast and the minute;
The unambiguous footsteps of the God
Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing,
And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds.

We might appeal to examples of those who have contemplated nature with these threefold qualifications, and prove that they have enjoyed not only that vivid perception which is peculiar to a poetical imagination, and that habitual delight which flows from the daily study and observation of the laws and phenomena of nature, but also, in addition to these two kinds of pleasures, they have experienced a third kind far more elevating and delightful than either, arising solely from the discoveries to which they were constantly admitted, of the boundless wisdom and benevolence of the Creator.*

Even Virgil recognizes the superiority, which, in the contempla

*See, for example, the letters of Legh Richmond, written from the vale of Keswick; and his description of the lakes of Westmoreland. (Memoirs, pp. 152, 205.)

tion of nature, the man of philosophic mind enjoys over the mere admirer of the landscape; and finally, to complete the character best fitted for en oying such happiness, he adds a sense of the presence of the sylvan deities.

O qui me gelidis in vallibus Hæmi

Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbrâ!
Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum,
Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari;
Fortunatus et ille, Deos qui novit agrestes,

Panaque, Sylvanumque senem, Nymphasque sorores.

But to return to our party. The success of one man above another in his undertakings, so far as depends on human agency, results not from blind chance, but from the exercise of superior skill grafted on hidden knowledge. This principle is finely illustrated in the following passage. Halieus had been absent from the fishing ground, but suddenly makes his appearance, and inquires, "What sport?"

Poiet. The fish are rising every where; but though we have been throwing over them with all our skill for a quarter of an hour, yet not a fish will take, and I am afraid we shall return to breakfast without our prey.

Hal. I will try; but I shall go to the other side, where I see a very large fish rising. There, I have him at the very first throw. Land this fish, and put him into the well. Now I have another fish; and I have no doubt I could take half a dozen in this very place, where you have been so long fishing without success.

Phys. You must have a different fly; or have you some unguent or charm to tempt the fish?

Hal. No such thing. I fancy if you will give me your rod and fly, I will answer for it, I shall have the same success. I take your rod, Physicus. And lo! I have a fish.

Phys. What can be the reason of this? It is perfectly inexplicable to Yet Poietes seems to throw as light as you do, and as well as he did yesterday.

me.

Hal. I am surprised that you who are a philosopher, cannot discover the reason of this. Think a little.

Hal. As you are my scholars, I believe I must teach you. The sun is bright, and you have been, naturally enough, fishing with your backs to the sun, which, not being very high, has thrown the shadows of your rods and yourselves upon the water, and you have alarıned the fish whenever you have thrown a fly. You see I have fished with my face towards the sun, and though inconvenienced by the light, have not alarmed the fish. Follow my example, and you will soon have sport, as there is a breeze playing on the water.

At the close of the next day, (which appears to have been Sat

VOL. II.

19

urday,) our party take lodgings at an inn, where the following interesting conversation passes.

Poiet. Should it be a fine day to-morrow, I think we shall have good sport. The high tide will bring up fish, and the rain and wind of yesterday will have enlarged the river.

Hal.-To-morrow we must not fish. It is the Lord's day, and a day of rest. It ought likewise to be a day of worship and thanksgiving to the Great Cause of all the benefits and blessings we enjoy in this life, for which we can never sufficiently express our gratitude.

Poiet. I cannot see what harm there can be in pursuing an amusement on a Sunday, which you yourself have called innocent, and which is apostolic; nor do I know a more appropriate way of returning thanks to the Almighty Cause of all being, than in examining and wondering at his works in that great temple of nature, whose canopy is the sky; and when all the beings and elements around us are, as it were, proclaiming the power and wisdom of Deity.

Hal. I cannot see how the exercise of fishing can add to your devotional feelings; but independent of this, you employ a servant to carry your net and gaff, and he, at least, has a right to rest on this one day. But even if you could perfectly satisfy yourself as to the abstracted correctness of the practice, the habits of the country in which we now are, form an insurmountable obstacle to the pursuit of the amusement.

Poiet. I give up the point: I make it a rule never to shock the prejudices of any person, even when they appear to me ridiculous.......... The protestants of this country consider the catholics bigots, because they enjoin to themselves, and perform certain penances for their sins; and surely the catholics may see a little more like that spirit in the interference of the Scotch in innocent amusements, on a day celebrated as a festive day, that on which our Savior ruse into immortal life, and secured the everlasting hopes of the christian. I see no reason why this day should not be celebrated with singing, dancing, and triumphal processions, and all innocent signs of gladness and joy. I see no reason why it should be given up to severe and solitary prayers, or to solemn and dull walks; or why, as in Scotland, whistling even should be considered as a crime on Sunday, and humming a tune, however sacred, out of doors, as a reason for violent anger and persecution.

Hal.-Zeal of every kind is sometimes troublesome, yet I generally sus pect the persons who are very tolerant of scepticism. Those who firmly believe that a particular plan of conduct is essential to the eternal welfare of man, may be pardoned if they show even anger, if this conduct is not pursued. The severe observance of the sabbath is connected with the vital creed of these rigid presbyterians; it is not therefore extraordinary that they should enforce it with a perseverance that goes beyond the bounds of good manners, and courtesy. They may quote the example of our Savior, who expelled the traders from the temple even by violence.

Phys.-I envy no quality of mind or intellect in others; not genius, power, wit, or fancy; but if I could choose what would be most delightful, and I believe most useful to me, I should prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing; for it makes life a discipline of goodness-creates new hopes, when all earthly hopes vanish; and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all lights; awakens life even in death, and from corruption and decay, calls up beauty and divinity, and makes an instrument of torture and of shame the ladder of ascent to paradise.