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E'er since thy stately form did Eden grace, Thy charms have sway'd the hearts of human

race,

And long as earth, and skies, and flow'rs remain,

So long shall be thy universal reign.
Of gardens thou'rt the fav'rite and the pride,
And other flow'rs look languid by thy side;
As to secure thy everlasting sway,
Nature has to thy throne hedg'd up the way
With thick-set thorns that every rude hand
tear,

Which the proud flower to pluck would boldly dare;

And thus secure, she sits, begirt with pow'r, Nor fears th' invading insect of an hour; There on her footstalk she with beauty

blooms, And yields for man most elegant perfumes. Behold, blest Christians, with exclusive joy,

The sacred source of sweets which never cloy;

The Rose with which no roses can compare,
The Rose of roses, altogether fair.
What terrene spot can vie with Sharon's

vale?

Not Pastam's plains, nor Achor's sacred dale;

Not Hephzibah, belov'd by heav'n above;
Nor Beulah, wedded to the God of love;
Unrivall'd 'tis by Guinea's golden coast,
Or silver-bosom'd soil, Peru's proud boast;
By rich Golconda's mines, where brilliants
pure

Of vivid lustre lie incas'd in ore;
By orient Indies, where with ev'ry hue,
The solar beams the precious gems imbue;
Where emeralds and jaspers may be seen,
Of ev'ry deep'ning shade of nature's green;
Where glossy opals with a gaudy show,
Reflect the radiant colours of the bow;
Where purple amethysts with sapphires' rays,
Their beams immingling beautifully blaze;
Where costly stones are found of dearest
price,

And fragrant shrubs bear aromatic spice;
Where mellow fruits in fult luxuriance grow,
And branchy trees protect from Phoebus'
glow.
Her wealth outweighs Neptunus' rich do-

mains,

Combin'd with all that Terra's sphere contains,

And all the treasures of the starry zone,

Nor can a finite mind her worth make known;
For there suns shine in sempiternal noon,
And there up sprang the Rose, which will for

ever bloom.

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MR. EDITOR.

By

SIR,-When a person has arrived at my time of life, it is neither a useless nor an unpleasing employment, to revolve in his mind the incidents of his past days; and to compare together the nature of the enjoyments and pleasures he has experienced. this means, he may form a true estimate of their respective value; and though he may not himself have frequent opportunities of applying his observations to future practice, they cannot fail of being, in some degree, serviceable to those who are younger than himself, and who are busily hastening along the road which he has already trodden.

When we enter on a retrospect of this kind, we cannot but be surprised, in the first place, to recollect how seldom our previous expectations of happiness have been gratified with the event desired, and how often we have tasted sincere and unmingled pleasure which we had not foreseen. Indeed, happiness may be said to be a beautiful coquet, who is not to be obtained by continual assiduity: as we follow, she flies; and it often happens, that the more earnest we are in the pursuit, the more rapid is her flight. If we desist, and treat her with indifference, she returns; and when we have no expectation of her presence, we are pleased to find her seated beside us, and perhaps perceive we are suddenly become her particular favourites.

By far the greater part of our enjoyments is derived from circumstances and events that are seldom sought after, but which are common to almost every situation in life. In the gratification of ambition, the moments of enjoyment are few, and those few are too often imbittered by jealousy

3 U

and apprehension. In the rounds of gaiety and of pleasure, in crowded assemblies and splendid meetings, how often have days and weeks of expectation terminated in vexation and disappointment,

"And e'en whilst fashion's brightest arts decoy,

The heart, mistrusting, asks, if this be joy?"

66

unwearied restlessness, which, ever attentive to self, is perpetually aiming at something yet unenjoyed; is a continual bar to these sedate and calm delights. The reproof that Pyrrhus received from the sincerity of Cineas, is applicable, in some degree, to most of our readers." What is the coun try next destined to submit to your victorious arms?" said Cineas. "I On the contrary, it often happens shall next proceed against Italy, anthat those pleasures, the most inno-swered Pyrrhus."—"What then," said cent in the enjoyment, and the most his friend. Sicily will then be the grateful in the recollection, have been object of my triumph."- "What obtained without labour, study, or next?"-" Libya and Carthage will ostentation; in the society of a friend, then become an easy prey." ""But in the moments devoted to medita- when we have done all this, what will tion, in the retirement of a cottage, or be your next employment?" contithe felicity of a domestic fire-side. nued the curious inquirer. "Then," replied the conqueror, “I shall be able to enjoy myself in peace, to eat, and to drink, and to be happy."—" If that be all," replied the other, "what prevents you from eating and drinking, and being happy, without such a variety of dangers, and such an infinity of trouble?"

If remarks of this nature have not been more frequently inculcated, the truth of them has been tacitly acknowledged by the conduct of some of the best and wisest of mankind. When I see Lælius and Scipio walking on the beach of the sea, and interrupting from time to time their conversation by picking the shells and pebbles of the shore, and admiring their variety and beauty, I doubt whether they do not taste a superior happiness to that which they felt, when, at the head of a victorious army, they poured destruction on the enemies of their country. The ease and composure of mind felt by Montaigne, when he amused himself with the freaks of his cat, excite my admiration and regard much more than the emotions experienced by Petrarch, when, in the midst of an illustrious assembly, he was dignified in Rome with the laurel crown. Then how I envy the sensations of the French poet, Racine, who, when invited to dinner with a prince of the blood, excused himself, because he was to partake with his children of a great fish which they had caught. These are the truest enjoyments of life; pleasures easy in the acquisition, that bring no satiety, nor leave a sting behind them.

But though these gratifications are common to every situation, and perhaps equally in the power of the poor and the rich, they are only to be enjoyed in their full extent by those who can divest themselves, at times, of their various occupations, and dwell with composure on the present moment, without remorse for the past, or solicitude for the future. That

I must, however, guard the reader against a misapprehension into which he may easily be led by the foregoing observations.

In pointing out the wisdom of enjoying such innocent pleasures as may fall in our path, 1 mean not to appear as the advocate of indolence and of negligence in any way. There are duties incumbent on every department of society; and, till these are performed, it will be in vain to hope for that serenity of mind, which is the only foundation of hap piness.

Had Scipio and Lælius spent their days in picking shells and pebbles on the sea shore, and Montaigne only played with his cat; such amusements would have been degrading and contemptible: but these moments were purchased by days of exertion and solicitude. It is from the contrast, which the mind experiences between a state of activity and a state of relaxation, that the latter derives its value. Like all other pleasures, it can therefore only be enjoyed with restrictions, and in moderation. If long continued, it would first become insipid, and afterwards insupport able. The surrounding air-the ex pansive ocean-are frequently ruffled by the breeze, and sometimes agitated by the storm, but without these they would soon become stagnant, and be

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MR. EDITOR. SIR,-Should the following remarks meet with your approbation, their insertion in your useful and respectable Magazine will oblige,

Your's, sincerely, &c.

WILLIAM SHUTTLEWORTH.
High-street Chapel, Huddersfield,
July, 1822.

"Read, and revere the Sacred Page."

YOUNG.

"How few respect, or use thee as they ought."

COWPER.

first introduced, was properly considered shocking and blasphemous.

I allude to a custom in which too many indulge, viz. pointing their pretensions to wit by citations, partial or entire, from the word of God. This I perceive is done in various ways, both by profane and professor, and, in some cases too, by those who minister in holy things. I might produce various instances to illustrate my meaning; but the practice is so common, that all, I conceive, into whose hands this paper may come, will understand what is intended as the object of my reprobation; and indeed, with this conviction, I cannot prevail with myself to pollute the page by particularizing,—some instances are too

gross.

Sometimes, when thinking on this subject, I have ventured to suppose myself a Christian, born in a country where such a practice is not known. Hearing of the national glory of Britain, her victories, her learning, and her religion, I have paid her a visit. I am placed in her metropolis, where I am surrounded by those who are eager to discover to me all the supposed or real proofs of her greatness: by them I am introduced to her court, her palaces, her cathedrals, abbeys, and churches; her exchanges, her If I remember rightly, that unhappy warehouses, her docks, her hospitals, infidel, Thomas Paine, in one of his her seats of learning, and to an almost abominable writings, calls the Pro- infinite variety of other places, with verbs of Solomon "a Jest Book;" an the number, extent, and splendour, expression, when considered in con- of which my mind is confounded and nection with its application, sufficient amazed. At length, by my particular to excite feelings of disgust in the request, I am introduced to a circle minds of literary, to say nothing of of her professedly religious characChristian characters. Probably it is ters, who receive me with every mark the direct and abrupt allusion of this of politeness, and with whose appearexpression, that produces so high a ance and demeanour I am quite predegree of irritation in the minds of possessed: with their conversation I the pious and well-disposed; for, I am enraptured;-they talk of bible sociapprehend, it is possible to treat the eties, missionary institutions, Sunday word of God disrespectfully, if not schools, and various other establishimpiously, without incurring, in many ments, which have for their objects cases, the displeasure we should me- the civilizing, moralizing, and evanrit, if our allusions to the sacred book gelizing of the world, in such a manappear, either from custom, or any ner as paints to my imagination the other cause, somewhat remote and arrival of the millennial day in all its indirect; nay, lamentable experience glories; and I already fancy I discoenables me to speak with certainty:ver the light of divine truth prevailing though I confess great allowances must now be made for the force of habit, which has unhappily rendered tolerable a practice, which, in reality, is not tolerable, but deserves severity of treatment; and, perhaps, when

over the dark corners of the earth with the rapidity of lightning; and my heart is filled with joy.

But soon, too soon, alas! these subjects are exhausted, and others are introduced-reserve wears off--cheer

communicated by them. For my own part, I have often lamented having received in this way, perhaps, an irreparable injury, from some characters whom I highly esteem; and I heartily wish I had for ever remained a stranger to their skill in this kind of metamorphosis. It may be called a weakness; it is one, however, I firmly believe, from which even those who indulge in the practice are not entirely free.

fulness prevails, (to which, by the byc, I am no enemy, when it is kept under proper restrictions,) and how am I shocked at hearing some of the company, who, to give point to their wit, introduce allusions to and expressions from the holy Scriptures; while the rest, instead of weeping at the irreverence, join in laughter! Surely, I conclude, these men must mistake the nature of true religion, and cannot be pious, or they could never thus trifle with the word of God. An Bishop Atterbury considers and opportunity is afforded me of being censures the practice in his sermon introduced to a company of Divines, on Prov. xiv. 6. in which he introand being very desirous of pushing duces the following illustrative paramy inquiries further, I gladly embrace graph.-(It may be introduced, I conit. Here I anticipated much plea-ceive, with safety, because while sure; and, indeed, I find them to be striking, it is not so gross and offenmen of great theological skill, and of sive as most instances are which bear uncommon powers of mind, possess-upon the subject.)" Thus," says the ing many traits of superior sanctity: Bishop, "a late person, eminent for and yet, surely they are sceptics in wit and wickedness, till a death-bed disguise, and serve at the altar formade him more serious, and gave him the loaves and the fishes; for I found them guilty of the same practice which I had witnessed in their people, and as hardened too; for, without blushing, they laboured to entertain me and themselves by converting the Scriptures into their jest book. Oh! how I sighed for my native country, where even the knowledge of such a practice would excite feelings of pain and regret!

At other times, I have supposed myself to witness the Apostle Paul, introduced to a company of these solemn triflers. In such a situation, I have, naturally enough, imagined his very soul to move within him, full of holy indignation-bis countenance to exhibit marks of displeasure, and kindle with pious anger-and I have heard him, too, give utterance to his roused feelings, in language of cutting and severe reproof.

But let us examine this subject

more minutely:

1. Does not this practice weaken the power, and, in a great measure, destroy the design, of those passages of Scripture that come under its influence, by an unnatural association of ideas? It is by no means unusual to hear persons declare respecting even some of the most weighty portions of holy writ, that they seldom or never hear, read, or call them to mind, without feeling a disposition to indulge in a spirit of levity, on account of the recurrence of some strange ideas they have heard

truer apprehensions of things, used to please himself mightily with this thought, that the doing of a miracle was only another phrase for shewing of a trick: and having once represented the thing to himself under such a light image, he could hardly be brought to think reverently of it ever afterwards, or to allow the strongest arguments which could be brought for the truth of miracles, a due and impartial consideration."

2. Does it not degrade the word of God? The Scriptures were given for no such purposes.-But I will not attempt to reason the case:—I will only desire my readers seriously to consider the emphatical expression by which we generally designate the Bible, viz. THE WORD OF GOD; or that fine and well-known sentence used by our immortal Locke in reference to the New Testament, which will apply with equal propriety to the whole canon of scripture-"It has God for its author; salvation for its end; and truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter." CHRISTIANS, would a Turk or a Brachman thus treat his Koran or his Shaster?

3. Is it not degrading to the individual who indulges in the practice? Here much might be said; but I will content myself with furnishing the reader with the opinions of two persons, of such eminence on several accounts, as will not fail to command considerable respect. Dr. Johnson, in his Life

of Pope, speaks of the poet thus:
“That he was not scrupulously pious
in some parts of his life, is known by
many idle and indecent applications
of sentences taken from the Scrip-
tures; a mode of merriment which a
a good man dreads for its profane-
ness, and a witty man disdains for
its easiness and vulgarity." (Lives of
Poets, vol. 4, p. 93. Edin. 1815.) And
Dr. Dick, in his admirable treatise
on the inspiration of the New Testa-
ment, referring, as I suppose, to Dr.
Johnson's remarks, observes, “Such
witticisms, it hath been well said, a
man of taste will despise for their vul-
garity, and a good man will abhor for
their profaneness." (See Sec. 4. for
other excellent remarks on the same
subject.)

in itself does not thereby lose any of its enormity; and I cannot prevail with myself to believe, that it was originally introduced by Christians, but, rather, has been by them borrowed from unbelievers, and the avowed enemies to religion; and that nothing but its gradual advances could hide its real odiousness, and create an indifference to a practice so shocking and irreverent.

ON MR. WEST'S PICTURES.

By S. HUGHES.

AT the time my late friend, Mr. West, was gratuitously exhibiting his Death of Nelson, for many weeks at his own house, I, after viewing it with great satisfaction, was informed by himself that it was the work of less than five months. I then inquired for the Deluge, a picture, of which I had seen the finished sketch at the exhibition several years before, and which had made so deep an impression on my

recollect the awe and astonishment it inspired. "I will shew it you," he replied, with his usual politeness; and led me into the ante-room, where it stood beside the Death of Wolfe, of which I shall first speak.

4. The practice wounds the minds of many. This may be inferred from the citations introduced into the last particular. Consider also the situation of young converts. Consider, too, the nature, craft, and vigilance, of the old serpent; and you will soon discover the interest he must feel in lessen-mind and memory, that to this hour I ing the value and importance of the Bible, and in representing those who trifle with its contents as insincere, and religion itself a farce; and thus he may shake their faith, and by degrees influence them to slight the word, and at length to treat it as a "This picture," said Mr. W. "is cunningly devised fable. But we ap- the property of Lord Grosvenor, and peal to facts; and the hearts of num- the original. I painted five; the King bers, now established with, or fallen has the second, and the third is my from grace, will testify their abhor- own, and in the next room by the side rence of the practice in question, when of Nelson. I was a young painter they first embraced the truth. What-(continued he) when I executed this; ever tends to weaken or destroy the design of God in the gift of his holy word, must give pain to seriously disposed persons, whose minds are alive to the injury produced; and nothing can exonerate those Christians from blame, whose minds are not wounded, except inconsideration, which may, and does arise in most instances, from local causes, such, for instance, as early impressions and education.

To conclude: Until I am convinced that it is possible to entertain too high a reverence for the word of God, I shall not easily be persuaded that the above remarks are too severe; for, though I am ever so willing to allow that many trifle with and profane the sacred Scriptures for want of thought, yet I must maintain, that the practice

the date (pointing to it) is 1766." I remarked I had seen a picture on the same subject about three years before that date, with very few figures in it.

-He replied, “Yes, that was painted by Penny, and is a plain matter-offact history; but I deemed it insufficient to convey to posterity the death of so great a man. I therefore proposed to several of the first artists, an epic delineation of that event, as worthy their pencil; but not finding any one inclined to undertake it, I resolved to attempt it myself."--And if I recollect right, he then added, "it was in the first exhibition at Somerset House." Mr. West must have been then in the thirtieth year of his age, as he was born in 1738.

After pointing out the vivid beauty of the colours, mellowed by time,

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