Creative Attribute, who have thought to climb up to its awful sanctuary, where it dwelleth evermore in the omnific word of Godhood, by piling stone upon stone in endless erection of a faithless science of final causation and a Great First Cause. Why, Jehovah is not the infinite source, but the source of the infinite source-not the first cause, but the cause of the first cause of all things; and even that in an altogether metaphorical mode. In fine, raised up on a basis of unconscious scepticism, this kind of natural theology is a seemly superstructure; but it hangs on the air, wavers uncertainly in every wind of doctrine, and is ready to vanish at the first sound of a bolder infidelity, leaving no trace behind. But the same phantasmagorial temple of design, with its magnificent proportions, shapely columns, rare devices, and choicest ornaments, becomes a grand reality the instant that man, as its anointed priest, proclaims through the resounding aisles that FAITH, ONLY FAITH, IS THE EVIDENCE OF THINGS UNSEEN. GEORGE HERBERT. (M'PHAIL'S JOURNAL.-No. XXXiv.) EVERY serious and cultivated mind has observed and lamented the paucity and the poverty of the sacred poems, which are to be found in British literature. The furnishing of such desirable and necessary food for the soul seems to have been the peculiar and distinguishing function of the old Hebrew bards. In this respect, among others, the Jews have certainly been the chosen people of God. It is remarkable that their magnificent literature seems to have been productive of this species of poetry alone; while, with the exception of the Orphic hymns, neither the Greek nor the Latin muse has even truly endeavoured anything in it, on the one hand; nor, on the other, has the inspiration of the modern world, with all its nations, effected any adequate setting forth of the Godward aspirations of the race in religious poems. Calderon and Dante, Milton and Shakspere, to name no smaller fames, have indeed exhibited the beautiful in imperishable forms, visibly and deeply penetrated by the ideas and the sentiments of Christianity; Christianity, however, modified by the nations and the epochs to which the poets belonged. But no mighty bard has shown forth the holy suffused with the beautiful, after the manner of the Jewish seers of the Testaments, Old and New. Per haps we should not look for any second avatar of that sort, any more than for a repetition of the Greek life ; once done, the thing may have been done for ever; and it must be owned, with boundless gratitude and wonder, that the peculiar inspiration of Moses and Miriam, David and Solomon, Isaiah and Ezekiel, Mary and Elizabeth, was drawn from fountains so deep and unfathomed that their divine canticles sing the spiritual life of all nations, ages, and degrees, with the most perfect and satisfying fulness. In truth, every new attempt, in the direction of which we speak, has invariably fallen into the fascinating track of the chariot-wheels of the old and modern sacred poetry seems incapable of becoming more than a feeble echo of the voice of God in the ancient Hebrew singers. As an American critic, of whom we shall presently make honourable mention, observes of all our fine arts except music, the new efforts are but bysprouts from the root of the old stem.' Yet a fresh religious poetry is an undying want of the world. The enthusiasm with which Young, Watts, Cowper, James Montgomery, and Pollok were successively received, and are still entertained by pious readers, is a standing sign of the fact. Now it has long appeared to us that George Herbert immeasurably surpasses all these honourable men, not only in that sacred fire which is the indispensable prerequisite of such poetry, but also in true poetic genius. And it is because his fervid and beautiful productions are too little honoured and appreciated, that we hasten to say a few words about him and them; we do so in the confident expectation of the hearty thanks of many of our readers, and that even of such of them as may rest content with the single passages we shall adduce; but still more of such as may be induced, by our example, to put the Temple among their household and favourite books. Let us begin with the man himself, the holy Mr. George Herbert, as Isaac Walton loved to call him. He was a scion of an old and noble stock, and was the fifth of seven sons; his father was Richard Herbert of Blakehall, the great-grandson of the famous Sir Richard of Colebrooke, 'who was the youngest brother of that memorable William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, that lived in the reign of our King Edward Iv.' But his father died when he was only four years old, so that he was emphatically the son of his mother. She was a notable woman, the child of one Sir Richard Newport; the dear friend, and sometimes the inspirer, of Dr. Donne; and subsequently Lady Danvers, by a second marriage. His elder brother became the celebrated Lord Herbert of Cherbury, a somewhat sceptical, yet an essentially spiritual-minded author; an ambassador and a courtier, of whom Margaret Fuller remarks that he was a very noble illustration of the man of the world, living in the habitual recognition of the spiritual laws:-the noble brother of a nobler. Two brothers fell in the wars of the Low Countries; another died in his college at Oxford; a fourth was a valiant sea-captain; and Henry, the sixth son, became King James's Master of the Revels. George himself was sent to Cambridge early; took his degrees and his fellowship; and was, while yet young, appointed orator to the University, 'the finest place in the university,' he says in a letter to his future father-in-law, ' though not the gainfullest; yet that will be about thirty pounds per annum, but the commodiousness is beyond the revenue, for the orator writes all the university letters, makes all the orations, be it to king, prince, or whatever comes to the university, . . . . and such like gaynesses, which will please a young man well.' Nor did he not thrive in this brilliant position, for it was in his capacity of orator that he drew the notice of King James upon him, and that of many renowned and noble personages. His letters and orations, as preserved in the Cambridge books, are written in the most elegant, witty, and withal courtly Latin. He became a courtier in fact; hoped, like other orators, to be made a secretary of state; and cherished many fine ambitions for a time. Not only Donne, but also Lord Bacon, the chancellor, made him their patron, in a manner, by dedicating each a work to him. In the University he was almost as noticeable for the elegance of his dress, and a certain aristocratic reserve, as for his sweet and pious spirit, which seemed to have been born in him from his most worthy mother. Altogether it is not easy to conceive a more smiling worldly future than shone on George Herbert during his entry into the fulness of manhood. But the spell had long been on him; spite of himself and the world, and favouring his mother's fondest wishes for him, he burned with the zeal of the house of God; and at thirty-three he renounced external life, and became the most humble and holy of English country parsons. How unaffectedly he refers to this transition in a passing stanza of his manifold poem! 'Whereas my birth and spirit rather took The way that takes the town, Thou didst betray me to a lingering book, Having taken deacon's orders at this time, he was made prebendary of Layton Ecclesia, in the diocese of Lincoln. Finding the church in a state of almost complete dilapidation, his first task was to get it rebuilt, a thing he achieved with the aid of his noble and wealthy relatives and friends; and old Walton assures us that 'for beauty and decency, it is (now) the most remarkable parish |