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But chief, where Brathay dashes by
Those church-crowned lonely scars,
Our walks beneath the moonless sky
And the unheeded stars.

Rivers there are to me that talk
Of many a darling tale;

Old Ouse, that chaunts of Mitred York,
And Wharfe of Bolton vale;
But none may learn a song so sweet}
Where'er their waters wander,

As those two brother streams that meet
In thy calm home, Winauder.

We must extract one more, though rather longer, for we cannot make up our minds to mutilate it by giving a part. It is the first of a series of six hymns, entitled "Hymns towards a Holy Week," on the works of the respective days (omitting the first) of the week of creation, as mentioned in the first chapter of Genesis. The subject matter here is, "And God said, let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament, and it was so." And Mr. Whytehead has been happy in the selection of a metre, though by no means suited to ordinary purposes, susceptible of great beauty in itself, and well according with the vague and indistinct sublimity of his theme. The choice of a proper form of metrical composition is to poetry what the being dressed in character is to acting; it cannot alter the innate talent either of the actor or the poet, but it may have considerable influence on the effect of their performance; and is an aid which it would be folly in any one voluntarily to slight. But here is our specimen.

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Oh! who shall bear
The blinding glare

Of the Majesty that shall meet us there?
What eye may gaze

On the unveil'd blaze,

Of the light-gilded throne of the Ancient of days?
Christ us aid!

Himself be our shade!

That in that dread day we be not dismay'd!

Two or three of the hymns, more directly devotional than the others, are at the same time rather below them in poetical excellence; and the cause of this inferiority we think may be mainly attributable to the subject. The fact is, (and it was remarked by Dr. Johnson, the last person to be suspected of a want of reverence for religion) that the actual expression of devotion is far from being a favourable subject for poetry. The opposite mistake is one into which many persons have fallen, and even more particularly men of pious and estimable dispositions, for the want, as it appears to us, of a little consideration; and from a too-hastily formed opinion that the position we have advanced is one hurtful to the interests of religion. But it is easy to show both by authority, that the fact is as we maintain; and by reason that one might have expected à priori, the state of the case to be as experience informs us it actually is. Poetry is usually the language either of passion or affection; the poetic character being, according to the highest human authority upon the subject, "of imagination all compact:" and what use or opportunity, we may ask, is there for any of these qualities in actual address or direct prayer to God? When exulting over vanquished enemies, or mourning for fallen friends, or depicting the beauty or the grandeur of the material world, or celebrating the loveliness and purity of some fair being more dear to us than ourselves; the soul naturally pours itself forth in the language of poesy,-the subjects are fitted to its powers, and our joy is heightened and our distress alleviated, by a consciousness of the sublimity or the elegance with which we describe or bewail them. There is always a feeling of satisfaction arising to the poet, from this consciousness of his own power;-from this knowledge that he stands on higher intellectual ground then ordinary mortals; and he proceeds on his mission of mind, "rejoicing like a giant to run his course;" or rests, surrounded by his own high imaginings, as the Titan sat of old "in pride of place" by the side of the cloud-compeller.

But when, with every other feeling absorbed in an overwhelming sense of guilt, weak man stands in His presence, before whom all earthly distinctions vanish, and sues to his offended maker for pardon and peace, he feels that it is not the proper occasion for any attempt at excellence; and that his only fitting language is, "God be mer

ciful to me a sinner." It is true that sacred subjects furnish many of the finest passages as well as the noblest themes of poetry; but this, instead of militating against it, will be found to furnish an additional illustration of our argument. In the words of the most eloquent of living divines, when speaking of the Bible, "It were easy to show that there is no human composition presenting in any thing of the same degree, the majesty of oratory or the loveliness of poetry. So that if the debate were simply on the best means of improving the taste of an individual,-others might commend to his attention the classic page, or bring forward the standard works of a nation's literature, but we, for our part, would chain him down to the study of Scripture; and we would tell him that if he would learn what is noble verse, he must hearken to Isaiah sweeping the chords to Jerusalem's glory; and if he would know what is powerful eloquence, he must stand by St. Paul pleading in bonds at Agrippa's tribunal." Now this, as far as it goes, is exactly what we maintain; -the poetry of the Bible,--such poetry as only inspiration could have dictated, is lavished on poetic subjects,-while the parts of prayer are in the plain, unadorned language of heart-felt supplication. Sing ye to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously, the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea." In such fitting strain proceeds the song of triumph of Miriam the prophetess, over the engulphed Egyptians, when

"The Lord looked out from his pillow of glory,

"And all their brave thousand were dash'd in the tide."

"The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places: how are the mighty fallen! Tell it not in Gath; publish it not in the streets of Askelon, lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph. Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain upon you, nor fields of offerings; for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul as though he had not been anointed with oil.” Where have we a more glorious anthem than this pathetic lamentation of the sweet psalmist of Israel over the illustrious dead? Where a nobler tribute of genius to friendship than the lines in which, towards the close of this most magnificent of elegies, he records the former prowess of those for whose untimely end he now calls on the daughters of Israel to raise the voice of wail? "From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul returned not empty. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions." Turn now to the song of Solomon, where the church is pourtrayed under a human figure as the bride of her Saviour, and we find images of beauty and loveliness springing up

as profusely as, when required, do those of sublimity or terror. "My dove, my undefiled, is but one: she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her.

Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?" Passages such as these, and the Bible is full of them, afford us what we feel to be the best possible examples of the various kinds of poetry. And if we search the other parts, we shall in the same manner intuitively recognise the true models of befitting prayer. What are the terms in which the patriarch ventures to intercede with an offended deity for the doomed cities of the plain? "Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes; peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty righteous; wilt thou destroy all the city for the lack of five? Oh let not the

Lord be angry, and I will speak. Peradventure there shall be thirty found there." Another instance is to be found in the appropriate, self-humbled answer of Job to the present God, speaking to him from the whirlwind. 66 Behold, I am vile, what shall I answer thee? I will lay my hand upon my mouth. Once have I spoken, but I will not answer; yea, twice, but I will proceed no further." If further evidence were wanting, it is supplied, and of a kind to pre clude all controversy, in the form of prayer left by Christ himself to all future generations, where it is confined to a bare statement of the wants, and the simplest possible petition for a supply, so far as may be consistent with the divine will.

Surely then, all these examples and considerations together will bear us out in the opinion we have expressed, and in reminding our authors in general, with all kindliness to them, and more especially all reverence to the topic, of the well-known rule,

"Quæ desperet tractata nitescere posse relinquat.'

In conclusion, we have only to express our thanks for the pleasure we have derived from this first essay, and our hope of receiving fresh, and still more delightful, supplies from the same source.

66

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Mr. Whytehead is unjust both to himself and to the public if he suffer the success, which may be well anticipated for his primary appearance, to operate as anything but an incentive to future exertions. Not that we conceive mere human fame to be, by any means, the proper ultimate object or reward of genius. It is not in the fumes of frankincense of human thought"-injthe "digito monstrari teriuntium"--the hearing "fame with her loud'st Oyes, cry this is he,'"--but in the pleasure felt by the soul in "brooding over her own sweet voice,"-in communing with the bright inhabitants of a world of its own creation—and, chief of all, in the assurance that its talents have been employed to the benefit of its fellow-creatures, and VOL. II. (1842.) NO. IV.

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