can for a moment be compared with that of the Psalm "The earth trembled and quaked; the very foundations of the hills shook, and were removed, because he was wrath. There went a smoke out in his presence, and a consuming fire out of his mouth, so that coals were kindled at it. He bowed the heavens also and came down, and it was dark under his feet. He rode upon the cherubims and did fly: he came flying upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him, with dark water and thick clouds to cover him. At the brightness of his presence his clouds removed; hailstones and coals of fire. The Lord also thundered out of Heaven, and the Highest gave his thunder; hailstones and coals of fire. He sent out his arrows and scattered them; he cast forth lightnings and destroyed them. The springs of waters were seen, and the foundations of the round world were discovered, at thy chiding, O Lord, at the blasting of the breath of thy displeasure." When I look at the famous nod of Jupiter Η, και κυανέησιν ἐπ' ὀφρυσι νευσε Κρονίων, I have before me a distinct image of a handsome terriblelooking man, sitting on a throne, and shaking his head; but when I read the passage which I have quoted above, I find no clear image represented; I feel only a dark and undefinable sensation of awe-a consciousness of the presence of the Deity, visible, yet clothed with darkness as with a veil. Look now at the terrible magnificence with which Ezekiel has overshadowed the Almighty. After a gorgeous description of the attendant ministers, he says: "And there was a voice from the firmament that was over their heads, when they stood and had let down their wings. And above the firmament that was over their heads, was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone, and upon the likeness of the throne was the likeness as the appearance of a man upon it. And I saw as the colour of amber, as the appearance of fire round about within it, from the appearance of his loins even upward, and from the appearance of his loins even downward, I saw as it were the appearance of fire, and it had brightness round about. As the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness round about. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. And when I saw it, I fell upon my face, and I heard a voice of one that spake." My quotations are running to a great length; nevertheless I cannot refrain from transcribing the splendid description of the Messiah, in which our own Milton has united the above two passages: "Forth rush'd with whirlwind sound The chariot of Paternal Deity, Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel withdrawn, By four cherubick shapes, four faces each Had wondrous, as with stars their bodies all And wings were set with eyes, with eyes the wheels Over their heads a crystal firmament, Whereon a sapphire throne inlaid with pure Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought, Of smoke and bickering flame, and sparkles dire; After having transcribed three such passages as these, I am in no mind to return at present to the dirt and filth of the Pagan superstition, and I shall hasten to a conclusion. I have been digressing from my original propositum, until at last I have left the Divinities of the Ancients, and set to work at proving that Homer and Virgil are far inferior to David, Ezekiel, and Milton, which after all is a very easy task, and not very new. I intended to have made this a very learned paper, to have talked much of Egypt, a little of M. Belzoni, and several other matters, which I have not time to enumerate. Here, however, is the fruit of my labours; I am too lazy, or too busy, to alter, or add, or erase; in thus rambling through five or six pages, instead of labouring through fifty, my time has been expended, I am sure, more pleasantly to myself, and I hope as agreeably to my readers. J. HARVEY. STANZAS. THOU hast left us, dearest Spirit, and left us all alone, And the song that tells thy virtues, and mourns thy early doom, Should be gentle as thy happy death, and peaceful as thy tomb. Thy place no longer knows thee beside the household hearth, We miss thee in our hour of woe, we miss thee in our mirth; But the thought that thou wert one of us-that thou hast borne our name, Is more than we would part with for fortune or for fame. Thy dying gift of love, 'twas a light and slender token, Ere those gifts shall lie forgotten, or those accents pass away. Farewell, our best and fairest! a long, a proud farewell! dwell Like the lovely star that led from far the wanderers to their God, May'st thou guide us in the pathway which thy feet in beauty trod. W. (33) HORE PALUDANÆ; OR, DROPS OF DERWENTWATER NO. III. MY SISTER. SHE sang-perchance to wile the hours, To all intents and ends my own ; Would to the chance-heard melody Muswell-hill, April 1, 1821. C. L. MUSIC. THANKS for those soft and soothing numbers! They've waked my dull heart from its slumbers; And on the wings of thy sweet strain I soar to life and love again. By the spirit-thrilling sound Hail to thee, Music! hail to thee! And to the soul's entranced eyes The forms of all things that have been. And thoughts and fancies, a sweet throng, -Strange spell! yet wherefore seek to explore No-Sages, vainly ye endeavour Since man's best joys and loves are wrought 1 G. M. |