Be yet far distant, let thy Word prevail,
Oh let thy Word prevail, to take away
'The sting of human nature. Spread the law,
As it is written in thy holy Book,

Throughout all lands: let every nation hear
The high behest, and every heart obey;
Both for the love of purity, and hope
Which it affords, to such as do thy will
And persevere in good, that they shall rise,
To have a nearer view of thee, in heaven.
Father of Good! this prayer in bounty grant,
In mercy grant it to thy wretched sons.
Then, not till then, shall persecutions cease,
And cruel wars expire. The way is marked,
The guide appointed, and the ransom paid.
Alas! the nations, who of yore received
These tidings, and in Christian temples meet
The sacred truth to acknowledge, linger still;
Preferring bonds and darkness to a state
Of holy freedom, by redeeming love
Proffered to all, while yet on earth detained.

"So fare the many; and the thoughtful few,
Who in the anguish of their souls bewail
This dire perverseness, cannot choose but ask,
Shall it endure ?-Shall enmity and strife,
Falsehood and guile, be left to sow their seed;
And the kind never perish ?-Is the hope
Fallacious, or shall righteousness obtain
A peaceable dominion, wide as earth,

And ne'er to fail? Shall that blest day arrive
When they, whose choice or lot it is to dwell

In crowded cities, without fear shall live
Studious of mutual benefit; and he,

Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and flowers
Of every clime, to till the lonely field,

Be happy in himself!-The law of faith

Working through love such conquest shall it gain,
Such triuniph over sin and guilt achieve?

Almighty Lord, thy further grace impart !
And with that help the wonder shall be seen
Fulfilled, the hope accomplished; and thy praise
Be sung with transport and unceasing joy."

"Once," and with mild demeanour, as he spake, On us the venerable pastor turned

His beaming eye that had been raised to Heaven, 'Once, while the name Jehovah was a sound, Within the circuit of this sea-girt isle,

Unheard, the savage nations bowed the head

To gods delighting in remorseless deeds;

Gods which themselves had fashioned, to promote

Ill purposes, and flatter foul desires.

Then in the bosom of yon mountain cove,

To those inventions of corrupted man

Mysterious rites were solemnized; and there,
Amid impending rocks and gloomy woods,
Of those terrific idols, some received
Such dismal service, that the loudest voice

Of the swoln cataracts (which now are heard

Soft murmuring) was too weak to overcome,
Though aided by wild winds, the groans and shrieks
Of human victims, offered up to appease

Or to propitiate. And if living eyes

Had visionary faculties to see

The thing that hath been as the thing that is,
Aghast we might behold this crystal mere

Bedimmed with smoke, in wreaths voluminous,
Flung from the body of devouring fires,
To Taranis erected on the heights
By priestly hands, for sacrifice, performed
Exultingly, in view of open day

And full assemblage of a barbarous host;
Or to Andates, female power! who gave
(For so they fancied) glorious victory.

A few rude monuments of mountain-stone

Survive; all else is swept away.-How bright

The appearances of things! From such, how changed

The existing worship; and, with those compared,

The worshippers how innocent and blest!

So wide the difference, a willing mind,
At this affecting hour, might almost think
That Paradise, the lost abode of man,
Was raised again: and to a happy few,

In its original beauty, here restored.

Whence but from thee, the true and only God,

And from the faith derived through Him who bled

Upon the cross, this marvellous advance

Of good from evil; as if ne extreme

We left the other gained. -O ve, who come

To kneel devoutly in yon reverend pile,

Called to such office by the peaceful sound

Of Sabbath bells; and ye, who sleep in earth,

All cares forgotten, round its hallowed walls!
For you, in presence of this little band

Gathered together on the green hill-side,

Your pastor is emboldened to prefer

Vocal thanksgivings to the eternal King;

Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands have made

Your very poorest rich in peace of thought

And in good works; and him, who is endowed

With scantiest knowledge, master of all truth

Which the salvation of his soul requires.

Conscious of that abundant favour showered
On you, the children of my humble care,
And this dear land, our country while on earth
We sojourn, have I lifted up my soul,
Joy giving voice to fervent gratitude.
These barren rocks, your stern inheritance;

These fertile fields, that recompense your pains;
The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain top;
Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads,
Or hushed; the roaring waters and the still;
They see the offering of my lifted hands-
They hear my lips present their sacrifice-
They know if I be silent morn or even :
For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart

Will find a vent; and thought is praise to Him,
Audible praise, to Thee, Omniscient Mind,
From Whom all gifts descend, all blessings flow!"

This vesper service closed, without delay,
From that exalted station to the plain
Descending, we pursued our homeward course,
In mute composure, o'er the shadowy lake,
Beneath a faded sky. No trace remained
Of those celestial splendours; grey the vault,
Pure, cloudless ether; and the star of eve
Was wanting ;-but inferior lights appeared
Faintly, too faint almost for sight; and some
Above the darkened hills stood boldly forth
In twinkling lustre, ere the boat attained

Her mooring-place ;-where, to the sheltering tree,
Our youthful voyagers bound fast her prow

With prompt yet careful hands. This done, we paced
The dewy fields; but ere the vicar's door

Was reached, the Solitary checked his steps;
Then, intermingling thanks, on each bestowed
A farewell salutation,-and, the like
Receiving, took the slender path that leads
To the one cottage in the lonely dell;
But turned not without welcome promise given,
That he would share the pleasures and pursuits
Of yet another summer's day, consumed

In wandering with us through the valleys fair,
And o'er the mountain-wastes. "Another sun,"
Said he, "shall shine upon us, ere we part,—
Another sun, and peradventure more;
If time, with free consent, is yours to give,-
And season favours."

To enfeebled power,

From this communion with uninjured minds,

What renovation had been brought; and what
Degree of healing to a wounded spirit,

Dejected, and habitually disposed

To seek, in degradation of the kind,
Excuse and solace for her own defects;

How far those erring notions were reformed;
And whether aught, of tendency as good
And pure, from further intercourse ensued ;
This (if delightful hopes, as heretofore,
Inspire the serious song, and gentle hearts
Cherish, and lofty minds approve the past)
My future labours may not leave untold.

NOTES.

PREFACE. Page 336.

"Descend, prophetic Spirit, that inspirest
The human soul of universal earth."

"Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come."
-SHAKSPEARE'S Sonnets.

Page 343.

"He wandered forth, much did he see of men."

At the risk of giving a shock to the prejudice of artificial society, I have ever been ready to pay homage to the aristocracy of nature; under a conviction that vigorous human-heartedness is the constituent principle of true taste. It may still, however, be satisfactory to have prose testimony how far a character, employed for purposes of imagination, is founded upon general fact. I therefore subjoin an extract from an author who had opportunities of being well acquainted with a class of men from whom my own personal knowledge emboldened me to draw this portrait : "We learn from Cæsar and other Roman writers, that the travelling merchants who frequented Gaul and other barbarous countries, either newly conquered by the Roman arms or bordering on the Roman conquests, were ever the first to make the inhabitants of those countries familiarly acquainted with the Roman modes of life, and to inspire them with an inclination to follow the Roman fashions, and to enjoy Roman conveniences. In North America, travelling merchants from the settlements have done and continue to do much more towards civilizing the Indian natives than all the missionaries, Papist or Protestant, who have ever been sent among them.

"It is farther to be observed, for the credit of this most useful class of men, that they commonly contribute, by their personal manners, no less than by the sale of their wares, to the refinement of the people among whom they travel. Their dealings form them to great quickness of wit and acuteness of judgment. Having constant occasion to recommend themselves and their goods they acquire habits of the most obliging attention, and the most insinuating address. As in their peregrinations they have opportunity of contemplating the manners of various men and various cities, they become eminently skilled in the knowledge of the world. As they wander, each alone, through thinly-inhabited districts, they form habits of reflection and of sublime contemplation. With all these qualifications, no wonder, that they should often be, in remote parts of the country, the best mirrors of fashion and censors of manners; and should contribute much to polish the roughness, and soften the rusticity of our peasantry. It is not more than twenty or thirty years, since a young man going from any part of Scotland to England, on purpose to carry the pack, was considered as going to lead the life, and acquire the fortune, of a gentleman. When, after twenty years' absence, in that honourable line of employment, he returned with his acquisitions to his native country, he was regarded as a gentleman to all intents and purposes."-HERON'S" Journey in Scotland," vol. i. p 89.

Page 373.

"Lost in unsearchable eternity!"

Since this paragraph was composed, I have read with so much pleasure, in Burnet's "Theory of the Earth," a passage expressing correspondent sentiments, excited by objects of a similar nature, that I cannot forbear to transcribe it :

"Siquod verò Natura nobis dedit spectaculum, in hâc tellure, verè gratum, et philosopho dignum, id semel mihi contigisse arbitror: cùm ex celsissimnâ rupe speculabundus ad oram mans Mediterranei, hinc æquor cæruleum, illinc tractus Alpinos prospexi: nihil quidem magis dispar aut dissimile, nec in suo genere, magis egregium et singulare. Hoc theatrum ego facilè prætulerim Romanis cunctis, Græcisve: atque id quod natura hic spectandum exhibet, scenicis ludis omnibus, aut amphitheatri certaminibus. Nihil hic elegans aut venustum, sed ingens et magnificum, et quod placet magnitudine suâ et quâdam specie immensitatis. Hinc intuebar maris æquabilem superficiem, usque et usque diffusam, quantum maximùm oculorum acies ferri potuit: illinc disruptissimam terræ faciem, et vastas moles variè elevatas aut depressas, erectas, propendentes, reK K

clinatas, coacervatas, omni situ inæquali et turbido. Placuit, ex hâc parte, Naturæ unitas et simplicitas, et inexhausta quædam planities, ex altera, multiformis confusio magnorum corporum, et insanæ rerum strages: quas cùm intuebar, non urbis alicujus aut oppidi, sed confracti mundi rudera, ante oculos habere mihi visus sum.

"In singulis ferè montibus erat aliquid insolens et mirabile, sed præ cæteris mihi placebat illa, quà sedebam, rupes; erat maxima et altissima, et quâ terram respiciebat, molliori ascensu altitudinem suam dissimulabat: quà verò mare, horrendum præceps, et quasi ad perpendiculum facta, instar parietis. Prætereà facies illa marina adeò erat lævis ac uniformis (quod in rupibus aliquando observare licet) ac si scissa fuisset à summo ad imum, in illo plano; vel terræ motu aliquo, aut fulmine, divulsa.

"Ima pars rupis erat cava, recessusque habuit, et saxeos specus, euntes in vacuum montem: sive naturâ pridem factos, sive exesos mari, et undarum crebris ictibus: In hos enim cum impetu ruebant et fragore, æstuantis maris fluctus; quos iterum spumantes reddidit antrum, et quasi ab imo ventre evomuit.

Dextrum latus montis erat præruptum, aspero saxo et nudâ caute; sinistrum non adeò neglexerat Natura, arboribus utpote ornatum: et prope pedem montis rivus limpidæ aquæ prorupit ; qui cùm vicinam vallem irrigaverat, lento motu serpens, et per varios mæandros, quasi ad protrahendam vitam, in magno mari absorptus subito peruit. Denique in summo vertice promontoni, commodè eminebat saxum, cui insidebam contemplabundus. Vale augusta sedes, Rege digna: Augusta rupes, semper mihi memoranda !"-Page 89. Telluris Theoria sacra, etc. secunda.

Page 387.

"Of Mississippi or that northern stream."

Editia

"A man is supposed to improve by going out into the world, by visiting London. Artificial man does, he extends with his sphere: but, alas! that sphere is microscopic: it is formed of minutiæ, and he surrenders his genuine vision to the artist, in order to embrace it in his ken. His bodily senses grow acute, even to barren and inhuman pruriency: while his mental become proportionally obtuse. The reverse is the man of mind: he who is placed in the sphere of nature and of God, might be a mock at Tattersall's and Brookes's, and a sneer at St. James's: he would certainly be swallowed alive by the first Pizarro that crossed him. But when he walks along the river of Amazons; when he rests his eye on the unrivalled Andes; when he measures the long and watered Savanna; or contemplates from a sudden promontory, the distant, vast Pacific-and feels himself a freeman in this vast theatre, and commanding each ready-produced fruit of this wilderness, and each progeny of this stream-his exaltation is not less than imperial. He is as gentle, too, as he is great. His emotions of tenderness keep pace with his elevation of sentiment; for he says, These were made by a good being, who, unsought by me, placed me here to enjoy them He becomes at once a child and a king. His mind is in himself; from hence he argues, and from hence he acts; and he argues unerringly, and acts magisterially His mind in himself is also in his God; and therefore he loves, and therefore he soars."-From the notes upon "The Hurricane, a Poem, by William Gilbert.

The reader, I am sure, will thank me for the above quotation, which, though from a strange book, is one of the finest passages of modern English prose.

See, upon this subject,

Page 391.

"Tis, by comparison, an easy task

Earth to despise; but to converse with Heaven."

Baxter's most interesting review of his own opinions and sentiments in the decline of life. It may be found (lately reprinted) in Dr. Wordsworth's "Ecclesiastical Biography."

Page 393.

"Alas! the endowment of immortal power,

Is matched unequally with custom, time."

This subject is treated at length in the Ode-"Intimations of Immortality"—at page 313.

Page 395.

"Knowing the heart of man is set to be."

The passage quoted from Daniel is taken from a poem addressed to the Lady Margaret, Coun. tess of Cumberland, and the two last lines, printed in Italics, are by him translated from Seneca. The whole poem is very beautifui. I will transcribe four stanzas from it, as they contain an admirable picture of the state of a wise man's mind in a time of public commotion :