Page images
PDF
EPUB
[graphic]

disposition will be found; each of t condary groups will form their own c affinity; these again are found to smaller circles, till at last the inquiry limited to the individual species.

more readily excite our wonder. But all inquiry into their nature is futile. We know not whether those distant worlds are inhabited by mortals or by spirits, or whether they are the abodes of happiness or misery: all this is hidden from human research. But with Natu- But the discoveries of those few, w ral History the case is different. The myriads pursued this line of inquiry, have no of organized beings that cover the surface of here. It is found, notwithstanding t our globe, are continually before our eyes: we plicated system of circles, that each is can distinguish their races, examine their struc-ed to another, and to all, either by di ture, and even explore their habits and econo- nity or relative analogy. An exam my. And if our knowledge of the system of explain this part of the subject more f their creation, will bear no comparison with I shall give one which the most ph that which is known on the general laws naturalist of the age has pointed out which regulate the planets, it is only because is a particular group of beetles, char the minds of most men have dwelt on details, by feeding upon living vegetables onl instead of grasping at general principles. exhibit five variations of form, very d There may be some who think, that even to the typical examples, but in those inse attempt such a discovery, as the plan which constitute the intermediate links, the the Almighty has pursued in creation, is al- tions are so diminished that one form in together vain, if not bordering upon impiety. blends into the next. On the other ha Might not the same argument be used against is another group of beetles, all of whic Astronomy? And was it not actually used in their sustenance from decayed vegetab the infancy of science? In regard to spiritual construction, no less than their food, things, we not only know that the human ingly different from the former rac mind is limited, but we also know the extent likewise are composed of five subord of those limits. But in natural science, al- milies, and like the others, are C though we feel the impossibility of even com- among themselves by a circular serie prehending the nature of things in perfection, nity. Now upon comparing the two ra we are utterly ignorant of those limits which present such a wonderful resemblan invisibly circumscribe our understanding. The spect to analogy, that not only the fiv discoveries of this age, in every branch of sci- pal families in each agree in one or m ence, would no doubt have appeared perfectly ing peculiarities, but it may even be visionary to those who lived in the last; while every insect in one race finds its repre that knowledge upon which we may now pride in the other. In short, not only in ourselves, will no doubt, in the estimation of stance, but throughout nature, there future ages, appear as comparative ignorance. symbolical relationship, from the high In Astronomy, indeed, we feel how hopeless it lowest of created beings. Their ve is to gain any information on the true nature and colours are not only important to of the heavenly bodies; yet we have been per- culiar habits or economy, but are em mitted to understand the great principles by types and symbols to designate someth which they are regulated. We know to a Thus, whether our attention be direc certainty that our own planet daily and annu- animal or vegetable kingdom, to the t ally revolves in two descriptions of circles, and or celestial world, one plan alone is dis that numerous others move in all directions on and that itself is typical of ETERNIT the same principles. Now, however unintelligi- tribute which proceeds alone from t ble such a complicated system may at first ap- Architect of all.t pear, yet the discoveries of science have made it both plain and undeniable: and that an assemblage of stars, which to the uninformed observer seem promiscuously scattered in the firmament, are nevertheless regulated by a plan the most beautiful and wondrous that can possibly be conceived.

Now there is incontestable evidence to prove, that the same system which is found to govern the heavenly bodies-a system plainly circular -is typically represented on earth, and is that upon which the whole of organized matter has originally been planned. If either the animal or the vegetable kingdom be attentively considered, they will each present a certain number of primary divisions, following each other in a series of affinity. They will also have this remarkable peculiarity, that the last will so intimately resemble the first, that the series returns again to the point from which the investigation commenced; and thus by the union of the first division with the last, the whole can only be represented under the form of a circle. Again, if any one of these primary divisions be examined singly, the same

It is only under this view that Nat tory assumes her true dignity, and herself from all those pursuits which earthly advantages, takes her statio side of Religion; and like her, directs to the contemplation of Omnipotence

Well therefore may it excite surp in a science so peculiarly connected w tianity, a neighbouring kingdom should have taken precedence over a nation rably more religious. The truth is, th day there are few who have any defini on the matter, or who are in the least the station which Zoology is now a These causes can alone account for no professorship of Natural History ex either of our Universities; when they found in every petty city on the C and for the remarkable fact, that the

Macleay, Hora Entomologica, passim.

It is well known that the Ancien sented Eternity under the form of a serpent; the tail passing into the mou

Sun of Righteousness.-Pollok's Course of Time.

Naturalists of this country are living either in retirement or obscurity. Like the Poet in Rasselas," they are only known or valued but by men like themselves."

The French Philosophers of the present age have acquired great and deserved fame by their splendid discoveries in Physiology, Geology, and comparative Anatomy; but as regards the Natural System, or that which is to develop the plan of Creation, it is not too much to say? that the book of nature to them has been hermetically sealed. Their discoveries will indeed remain; for these regard things which are immutable; but their systems and theories, formed either without any reference to religion, or in direct opposition to its greatest truths, are even now fast tumbling to decay. They may indeed be remembered, but only as lamentable instances of the infirmity of our nature, which taking not God for its guide, perverts His works to inculcate the baneful principles of materialism and infidelity.

From the Pulpit.

THE SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. LIGHT of the universe, bright Sun of glory! Rise on the Heathen benighted, and shine; Disperse all the clouds and darkness before thee,

Diffuse all around thy splendour divine. Life of the world, and death's potent destruction!

Breathe once again on the valley of bones;
Soon all the dead will be put into motion,
And hearts become soft, though harder than

stones.

See! Lucifer falling, son of the morning!

Demons to caverns of darkness retire;
They cannot endure the "Spirit of burning".
They cannot withstand Omnipotent ire.
Now is the ensign of mercy displaying!
Now is the banner of Jesus unfurl'd;
And thousands of souls this moment are pray-
ing,

His kingdom may spread all over the world.
Bright Sun of righteousness! clad in thy glory,
Rise on the nations benighted, and shine;
Disperse all the clouds and darkness before
thee,

Diffuse all around thy splendour divine.
J. M.

From the Eclectic Review.

1. THE COURSE OF TIME; a Poem in ten Books. By Robert Pollok, A. M. In two Volumes. 12mo. pp. 520. Edinburgh. 1827. 2. PALINGENESIA. The World to Come. roy. 8vo. pp. 276 and 30. Paris. 1824. THE World before the Fa

the Flo

the Grave, the Last Man, the Last Day. ed to see him die. Others have sung of De combination of the varied powers of imagin we have now before us an attempt bolder th attempt to pass, in a direction opposite to th all these such as might seem to require which Milton took, tion exhibited by all preceding bards: it is

Nor would success in the daring enterprise b "The flaming bounds of time and space." And shadow what, while I of things to come, too dearly purchased by the same penalty. As past, rehearsing, sing the Course of Time, "My eye unscale; me what is substance teach, The second Birth, and final Doom of man."

give a general idea of the theme which Mr. which he has undertaken his task. Of the These lines, taken from the invocation, will Author himself, we are unable to give our reaPollok has chosen, and of the serious spirit in ders any account. He comes before us without any previous notice or introduction; and, for any thing that appears to the contrary, this may be his first effort, his maiden production. The poem presents itself without apology, proem, argument, or table of contents;-we cannot say whether this be owing to inexperience, modesty, or the pride of conscious genius. And we think it not unlikely that, on the bare mention or first discovery of the plan and subject of a poem which commences with the end of time, and the first volume of which carries the retrospective narrative beyond the Millennium, the last five books being occupied with sumptuous and almost profane temerity of such the course of events subsequent to that period, -the reader will be ready to resent the prean undertaking. It is not, indeed, in every mood, that either the critic or the casual reader will be qualified to do justice to such a poem. Yet, a very slight inspection may satisfy him, that the Author has powers which must rescue to be from the pen of the Rev. Lewis Way, is even failure from contempt, and that his purpose has been befitting "argument so high." Palingenesia," which we have understood a poem of a very different order. It is in fact, as it professes to be, a "didactic essay," upon the Millennium. poems are to a certain extent so far similar, that The subjects of the two we have deemed this a proper occasion for noticing a work which it would be injustice to pass over; but it will claim to be reviewed as an essay, rather than as a poem; and with regard to the views and sentiments only which it advocates, would it be fair, perhaps, to bring it into close comparison with Mr. Pollok's more efficient production. As we wish our readers to form their own judgment of the latter, before Iwe venture any observations of our own, we Author describe his argument fa cannot do better than submit the general plan of the poem to the test of analysis, making the

[ocr errors]

in his own

[graphic]

To number seasons, days, and months, and years

To mortal man; hope was forgotten, and fear; And Time, with all its chance and change, and smiles,

And frequent tears, and deeds of villany, Or righteousness,-once talked of much as things

Of great renown,-was now but ill-remembered;

In dim and shadowy vision of the past,
Seen far remote, as country which has left
The traveller's speedy step, retiring back
From morn till even: and long, eternity
Had rolled his mighty years, and with his years
Men had grown old. The saints, all home re-
turned

From pilgrimage, and war, and weeping, long
Had rested in the bowers of peace that skirt
The stream of life; and long (alas! how long
To them it seemed!) the wicked who refused
To be redeemed, had wandered in the dark
Of hell's despair, and drunk the burning cup
Their sins had filled with everlasting wo.

"Thus far the years had rolled, which none but God

Doth number, when two sons, two youthful

sons

Of paradise, in conversation sweet,

(For thus the heavenly muse instructs me, wooed

At midnight hour with offering sincere
Of all the heart, poured out in holy prayer,)
High on the hills of immortality,
Whence goodliest prospect looks beyond the
walls

Of heaven, walked, casting oft their eye far through

The pure serene, observant if, returned
From errand duly finished, any came,
Or any, first in virtue now complete,
From other worlds arrived, confirmed in good.
"Thus viewing, one they saw, on hasty wing
Directing towards heaven his course."

The celestial citizens welcome the stranger, whose face betrays a sad concern, occasioned, as he proceeds to explain, by his having wandered far into the region of eternal, uncreated night, where, suddenly, he came in view of the adamantine confines of the den of perdition; and he asks their "elder knowledge" to explain the origin and purpose of that dreadful place. They reply, that they had indeed heard of its existence, but required to be themselves further taught on the mysterious subject.

"For we ourselves, tho' here, are but
Of yesterday, creation's younger sons.
But there is one, an ancient bard of earth,
Who, by the stream of life sitting in bliss,
Has oft beheld the eternal years complete
The mighty circle round the throne of God;
Great in all learning, in all wisdom great,
And great in song; whose harp in lofty strain
Tells frequently of what thy wonder craves,
While round him gathering stand the youth of
Heaven,

With truth and melody delighted both.
To him this path directs, an easy path;
And easy flight will bring us to his seat.

"So saying, they linked hand in ha

out

Their golden wings, by living breeze And over Heaven's broad champa

serene.

O'er hill and valley clothed with ver That never fades; and tree, and flower,

That never fades; and many a river With nectar, winding pleasantly, th And mansion of celestial mould, and Divine. And oft delicious music, su By saint and angel bands that walke Or mountain tops, and harped upon t Their ear inclined, and held by sweet Their wing; not long, for strong des Of knowledge that to holy use migh Still pressed them on to leave w seem'd

Pleasure, due only when all duty's "And now beneath them lay the

spot,

The sacred bower of that renowned That ancient bard, ancient in days a But in immortal vigour young, and In rosy health; to pensive solitude Retiring oft, as was his wont on ear "Fit was the place, most fit for hol Upon a little mount that gently rose He sat, clothed in white robes; a head

A laurel tree, of lustieth, eldest gro Stately and tall, and shadowing far a Not fruitless, as on earth, but bloom With frequent clusters, ripe to heave Spread its eternal boughs, and in its A myrtle of unfading leaf embraced The rose and lily, fresh with fragra And every flower of fairest cheek, Him smiling flocked; beneath his f And round his sacred hill, a stream Warbling the holy melodies of hea The hallowed zephyrs brought h sweet;

And out before him opened, in pros Descending from the lofty throne The river of life, in many a windin That with excessive glory closed t "Of Adam's race he was, and lone By chance that day, in meditation Reflecting much of Time, and Eart And now to pensive, now to cheer He touched a harp of wondrous m A golden harp it was, a precious g Which, at the day of judgment, wi Of life, he had received from God Reward due to his service done or

To this ancient of Adam's race be mistaken, the two their new c troduce. He repeats his story, and of questions bearing upon the aw He receives for answer, that the is hell.

"But whence or why they came t Why they curse God, what mean

morn

Of Resurrection,-these a longer Demand, and lead the mournful I Thro' memory of sin and mortal Yet haply not rewardless we shal

The dark, disastrous years of finished Time.
Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy.
Nor yet shall all be sad; for God gave peace,
Much peace, on earth, to all who feared his

name."

His morning hopes awoke before him smiling,
Among the dews and holy mountain airs;
And fancy coloured them with every hue
Of heavenly loveliness. But soon his dreams
Of childhood fled away,-those rainbow dreams
So innocent and fair, that withered age,
Even at the grave, cleared up his dusty eye,
And passing all between, looked fondly back
To see them once again ere he departed.-
These fled away-and anxious thought, that
wished

Possessed his soul, and held it still awhile.
To go, yet whither knew not well to go,

He listened and heard from far the voice of
Fame-

den vow

Premising that the inquirer must prepare to hear the narrative in other language than his ear had been accustomed to, the dialect of man," the Bard of earth, to whom the task is so happily transferred, proceeds, in the Second Book, to "sketch in brief the history of Man." The creation of the earth and its first happy sovereigns, the fall, the Divine purpose and plan of Redemption, and man's refusal of the invitations of Mercy, are first briefly unfolded to the wondering audience; and on their re- Heard, and was charmed; and deep and sudmarking that "Men surely lost their reason in their fall," the Bard replies, "they had the "Bible." This introduces a beautiful panegyric on the inspired volume, and an account of its sacred contents, which has great merit as a clear and nervous epitome of the Christian faith; followed by a rapid sketch of the false doctrines, sceptical creeds, and monstrous phantasies which dimmed the light of Christianity; The sins of kings and priests are then detailed and characterized, as Milton would have spoken

of those whose

"One intent,

Purpose, desire, and struggle, day and night,
Was evermore to wrest the crown from off
Messiah's head, and put it on (their) own,
And in His place give spiritual laws to men;-
To bind religion-free by birth, by God
And nature free, and made accountable
To none but God-behind the wheels of state;
To make the holy altar, where the Prince
Of life incarnate bled to ransom man,
A footstool to the throne."

He then proceeds to trace the individual characters of the infidel, the formalist, and the worldling, tracing the sin of all to its primal cause, "pride, self-adoring pride."

In the Third Book, the Bard of Earth invites his visiters to "hear more largely of the ways of Time, the fond pursuits and vanities "of men." Philosophy; the search for happiness; the love of gold, pleasure, of fame; the various forms of human folly; the crowning madness of atheism; the false' estimate of wisdom maintained by the world; the twin progeny of Sin, Disappointment and Remorse; the late lesson of the death-bed;-compose the weighty and solemn argument of this book.

Those readers who wish to see how these sub

jects are treated, will do well to obtain Mr.
Pollok's work. We pass over several very
striking passages, to give entire, a sort of bio-
graphical episode, which is evidently a tale of
that bitterness which only the heart that feels
it, knows.

"One of this mood I do remember well:
We name him not. What now are earthly

names?

In humble dwelling born, retired, remote

Of resolution made to be renowned;

And deeper vowed again to keep his vow.
His parents saw-his parents, whom God made
Of kindest heart-saw, and indulged his hope.
The ancient page he turned; read much;
thought much;

Measured his soul severely; and looked up
And with old bards of honourable name
To fame, ambitious of no second place.
Hope grew from inward faith, and promised

fair:

And out before him opened many a path
Ascending, where the laurel highest waved
Her branch of endless green. He stood ad-
miring;

But stood, admired not long. The harp he
seized;

The harp he loved-loved better than his life;
The harp which uttered deepest notes, and held
The ear of thought a captive to its song.
He searched, and meditated much, and whiles
With rapturous hand in secret touched the lyre,
Aiming at glorious strains-and searched again
For theme deserving of immortal verse:
Chose now, and now refused unsatisfied;

Pleased, then displeased, and hesitating still.

"Thus stood his mind, when round him came
a cloud;

Slowly and heavily it came; a cloud
Of ills we mention not: enough to say
'Twas cold, and dead, impenetrable gloom.
He saw its dark approach; and saw his hopes,
One after one, put out, as nearer still
It drew his soul: but fainted not at first;
Fainted not soon. He knew the lot of man
Was trouble, and prepared to bear the worst:
Endure whate'er should come, without a sigh
Endure, and drink, even to the very dregs,
The bitterest cup that Time could measure out:
And, having done, look up, and ask for more.
"He called Philosophy, and with his heart
Reasoned: he called Religion too, but called
Reluctantly, and therefore was not heard.
Ashamed to be o'ermatched by earthly woes,
He sought, and sought with eye that dimmed
apace,

To find some avenue to light, some place
On which to rest a hope-but sought in vain.
Darker and darker still the darkness grew:

[blocks in formation]

now

Was dead and mouldering fast away. He tried
No more to hope: wished to forget his vow;
Wished to forget his harp: then ceased to wish.
That was his last. Enjoyment now was done.
He had no hope-no wish-and scarce a fear.
Of being sensible, and sensible

Of loss, he, as some atom seemed which God
Had made superfluously, and needed not
To build creation with; but back again
To Nothing threw, and left it in the void,
With everlasting sense that once it was.
"Oh, who can tell what days, what nights he
spent,

Of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless wo!
And who can tell, how many, glorious once,
To others, and themselves of promise full,
Conducted to this pass of human thought,
This wilderness of intellectual death,
Wasted and pined, and vanished from the earth,
Leaving no vestige of memorial there!
"It was not so with him: when thus he lay,
Forlorn of heart, withered and desolate
As leaf of Autumn which the wolfish winds,
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase
Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes,
And leave it there alone to be forgotten
Eternally;-God passed in mercy by,
His praise be ever new! and on him breathed,
And bade him live; and put into his hands
A holy harp, into his lips a song,
That rolled its numbers down the tide of Time.
Ambitious now but little to be praised
Of men alone; ambitious most to be
Approved of God, the Judge of all; and have
His name recorded in the book of life."

The reader may, perhaps recognise, in this portrait, a family likeness to the Javan of the World before the Flood; a coincidence which detracts nothing from the interest and truth of the narrative. Mr. Pollok must be conscious that many persons will be apt to identify the imaginary character with the poet himself; nor are we aware that he will have any cause to regret or to complain of such an interpretation being put upon the passage. It describes a course of discipline well adapted to qualify the candidate for the higher honours of his order, for succeeding in his lofty enterprise.

The Fourth Book is of a very desultory character, rather more so, perhaps, than quite comports with the general style and character of the poem, and not easily admitting of analysis. The leading topics are, Liberty, true and false; the Christian's conflict: books: the

tellectual good. In illustration of the
feature of the Divine dispensations, an e
is given, which our readers will be at no
refer to the peerless original.

"A man of rank, and of capacious so
Who riches had, and fame beyond desi
An heir of flattery, to titles born,
And reputation, and luxurious life.
Yet not content with ancestorial name
Or to be known, because his fathers w
He on this height hereditary stood,
And gazing higher, purposed in his he
To take another step. Above him see
Alone the mount of Song-the lofty se
Of canonized bards; and thitherward,
By nature taught, and inward melody
In prime of youth, he bent his eagle e
No cost was spared. What books he

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]
« PreviousContinue »