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for as from his origin he was a being essentially free, he was in consequence capable of change, and even in his organic powers most flexible. We must adopt this principle as the only clue to guide us in our inquiries from the Negro, who as well from his bodily strength and agility, as from his docile, and in general, excellent character, is far from occupying the lowest grade in the scale of humanity, down to the monstrous Patagonian, the almost imbecile Peshwerais, and the horrible cannibal of New Zealand, whose very portrait excites a shudder in the beholder. So far from seeking with Rousseau and his disciples for the true origin of mankind,
and the proper foundations of the social compact, in the condition even of the best and noblest savages, we regard it on the contrary, as a state of degeneracy and degradation.” But the resuscitation and recreation of these ruined natures is brought to pass through the incarnate God, combining in his nature all the capacities and sensibilities of Humanity. In him is centered the fulness and perfection of human nature. What was lost in Adam is restored to man in Christ. But the organic union of the theanthropic Saviour with humanity, for its redemption and salvation, supposes homogeneity in its constituent elements. The possibility of making provision for the redemption of all mankind in one God-man, rested on the fact that all specific characteristics grew from one common origin. On the supposition that there is no organic connection between the fallen angels, their redemption could not have taken place through a single incarnation ; so neither could there have been an organic salvation for man, unless all men have originated from one common source. Such a necessary circumscription of the atonement would have released all beyond its influence, from the solemn obligations thereby imposed.
Thus all the reasonings drawn from the idea of Humanity, and the central person in whom that conception has been fully realized ; as well as many well established facts gathered from the natural history of man, lend a strong table of testimony to the Mosaic record.
Having been brought by our thread of argumentation to the Person of the Saviour of the world, we will here, make in conclusion one general observation, applicable also to the point in hand. The manner in which the Evangelists draw the natural portrait of the Saviour, stamps upon the Gospel history a strong internal proof of a superior authority. They do not construct Christ after the model of a great Jewish Teacher like Hillel or Gamaliel, personifications of concrete ideas among the Jews. The moral characteristics and whole expression in these differ
THE VERNAL ODES OF HORACE.
How heartily doth the old Venusian bard enter into his descriptions of the Spring! The gentle movings of that season he seemeth to feel in his inmost soul. He resembleih not some of our modern city poetasters who, having never caught inspiration from the fields and woods themselves, draw their descriptions merely from gardens or what they have read of in books. Such Bavii and Mævii he, no doubt, as utterly detested in his day as we do them in ours. He resembleth not much even some of our best modern descriptive poets, who delineate the features of nature as faithfully as a landscape painter, it is true, but in the same objective manner. Hanging on the outward beauties of these with their eyes, their imaginations become warmly impressed, and they are thus enabled to give charming descriptions of shein in their poems. But after all, these are only pictures. Beautiful things to be looked upon, to be sure, but still the poet is not visibly present. He ullereth not in them his emotions. Horace was no bad hand at plain sketching of this sort himself; as any one knoweth who hath read his Epistles, as, for instance, the Sixteenth of the First Book, but he seemeth to have considered it no very great accomplishment in itself. Or his country villa he there giveth us a fine description, it is true, but it serveth only as a frontispiece or introduction to some more important moral lessons. In the ode he goeth further. He enterelh there into full sympathy with reviving nature in the Spring and sendeth forth his voice as naturally and as feelingly as a bird its warblings. In this species of song he excelleth. How few lyrics have we now-a-days called forih by the genial inflıences of the season! In such odes he entereih not far into the mere description of the landscape. The scene is too joyous to be described. Amid the glad burstings forth of the leaves and blossoms and the songs of the birds, by his vivid imagination, all the loves and beauties and graces are seen in their living human forms coming forward in dancing activity, personified according to the mythology of his country. He cannot keep quiet. In lyric strains he inviteth his friends io come abroad with him into the country and perform their appropriate parts in the grand oratorio of the season ; to wreathe around their unguented heads the festive chaplets, and to sacrifice to Faunus, the old Italian frolic god of rural nature. Of course it becometh not our modern poets to revive the mythology of ancient Greece and Rome. We live under the cheering influences of a holier religion. Still
methinketh it would be wise to follow their example in one respect. We ought to unite with nature more heartily than we do in her orisons and vespers. We confine our praises too entirely to temples and houses made with hands. The woods and meadows now-a-days we leave to laud their great Reviver alone. Our climate, to be sure, is more inclement than was that of the Romans. Spring doth not burst upon us so soon nor so suddenly as it hath ever done on the more favored people of Italy. Their scenery too is perhaps more picturesque and beautiful. Still we fancy that in the Spring, enough of life and beauty is to be seen around us to awaken more warmly than it doth our feelings of devotion and gratitude. The vernal festive day of the Romans in honor of Faunus was celebrated on the thirteenth of February. With us we have no holiday of the sort until the first of May, when the young villagers in some sections of our country go abroad and perform their gambols around their maypole, and choose their queen, and crown her with flowers; a charming old observance which hath come down to us from simpler times, and the day, I trust, will never be suffered to pass without its appropriate rites, as it is now the only one in the calendar set apart for holding sympathetic communion with reviving nature; though I must confess that I have never yet been able to discover very much religion beneath its observances.
Horace. Book I, ODE IV.
Trahuntque siccas machinae carinas.
Nec prata canis albicant pruinis,
Junctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes
Vulcanus ardens urit officinas.
Aut flore, terrae quem ferunt solutae.
Seu poscat agna, sive malit haedo.
Regumque turres. O beate Sexti,
Jam te premet nox, fabulaeque Manes,
Nec egna vini sortiere talis,
Nunc omnis et mox virgines tepebunt. VOL. III.-NO. II.
Solved is winter severe by the changing of spring and bland Favonus.
And by machines the dry-keeled ships are drawn down ; While in the fold now joys not the flock nor the ploughman at the
Nor meadows longer are bedight with hoar frost. [fireside, Now Cytherea her dances is leading up 'neath the hanging full moon;
And joined with Nymphs the Graces all becoming (cyclops Trill on the earth their lightest alternate steps ; whilst of heavy
The glowing Vulcan kindleth up the forges. [myrtle Now 'tis comely to wreathe round the glossy head either sprigs of
Or flowers which all the loosened lands are bearing. Now in the fresh-leaved grove 'tis comely to sacrifice to Faunus, If lamb he ask, or kid he would have rather.
[tago Pale Death beateth with foot impartially 'gainst the poor man's cot
And king's proud tower. O my happy Sext'us, Life's sum soon to be filled forbiddeth our casting forward long hopes.
Soon night will press thee and the fabled Manes, [go'st, And the Plutonian, exiled dwelling-place; whither when thou onca
Nor chief at wine shalt thou be made by dices
the youths are,
Our bard, we confess, towards the conclusion of this odo waxeth somewhat pensive and sombre. He doth not enter into the full enjoyment of the present without any regard to the fu: lure. In his day he was not just “a bullerfly born in a bow.
He was not even one of those gay Grecians of old who boasted themselves to have been born the brothers of the cicadae or harvest flies. They sipped the dew of the present. They sang and danced and never thought of looking forward to the coming winter. Anacreon, for instance, in his ode on the Spring, and in fact in all his odes, chirpeth as merrily and as carelessly as a cricket. He revelleth in the “ liquid noon" of the preseni. Into the dim vista of the future he never looketh further forward than he can see wine and women and roses. He observeth not approaching evils, until the ladies tell him that his hair is be. coming white and thin ; and then, to kill care, he danceth and singeth and sippeth wine, until al length in his green old-age he is suddenly choked off by a grape-stono.
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