- 
 
 ^m 
 
 
 
IERKELEY 
 
 IBRARY 
 
 DIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
LUTHER: 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 REV. EGBERT MONTGOMERY, M.A. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE OMNIPRESENCE OF THE DEITY," "THE MESSIAH, 
 "SATAN," ETC. ETC. 
 
 "THE SOLITARY MONK THAT SHOOK THE WORLD." 
 
 ftt)(r& tJttlon, Kebisefc anH OTomctelr. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 FRANCIS BAISLER, 124, OXFORD-STREET; 
 
 HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO., 33, PATERNOSTER ROW; 
 
 TILT AND BOGUE, 86, FLEET-STREET. 
 
 MDCCCXLIII. 
 
2pttapf)ium 
 
 THEOD. BEZJE IN MARTINUM LUTHERUM. 
 
 " Roma orbcm dorauit, Roinam sibi Papa subegit 
 Viribus ilia suis, fraudibus isto suis 
 
 Quanto isto major LUTHERUS, major et ilia 
 Istum,illamque uno qui domuit calamo! 
 
 I, nunc! Alciden memorato, Grsecia Mendax; 
 LUTHERI ad calamum ferrea clava nihil!" 
 
 " Rome once subdued the \vorld by war; 
 
 By art the Pope crushed her again: 
 One monk excels them both by far, 
 
 For both were vanquished by his pen! 
 Go, now, thou fabling Greece, and boast no longer 
 
 Alcides' club, for Luther's pen is stronger!" 
 
to 
 
 Mi 
 
 JM 
 
 I. lit 3 
 
 TO 
 
 MERLE D'AUBIGNE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 " THE HISTORY OF THE GREAT REFORMATION OF THE SIXTEENTH 
 CENTURY," 
 
 THE FOLLOWING ATTEMPT IS GRATEFULLY 
 
 BY THE AUTHOK, 
 
 GLASGOW, 1843. 
 
 382 
 
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 " LBT us not lose the BIBLE, but with all -diligence and in God's fear 
 read and preach the same ; for if that remaineth, flourisheth, and be 
 taught, then all is safe ; she is the head and empress of all faculties and 
 arts : if divinity falleth, then whatsoever remaineth besides, is nothing 
 worth. ' ' LUTHKK. 
 
 SOME four years since, the Times newspaper was the heroic 
 advocate of the sacred principles of the Reformation; arid from 
 day to day sent forth leading articles, not more distinguished for 
 the lofty vehemence of their language, than for the scriptural logic 
 wherewith they were enforced. From among these, we select some 
 remarks which that journal made on the growing prevalence of 
 Romanism. " From the swarms of unsuspected emissaries of 
 Popery now in this kingdom wearing all sorts of disguises 
 working themselves into every social circle conducting or over- 
 looking the liberal press commanding access to families as 
 teachers of French, Italian, German, painting, drawing, and 
 music many of them instilling their diluted poison as literary 
 redacteurs, compilers of school-books, arid penny magazine writers 
 and all of them working indefatigably, not onlyin disseminating a 
 muffled Romanism, by means of tracts', historical perversions, and 
 romantic tales, and by decoying the thoughtless and inexperienced 
 to attend the imposing formalities of Popish worship ; OUR PER- 
 SUASION, OUR STRONG PERSUASION IS, THAT UNLESS THIS ABOMIN- 
 ABLE CONFEDERACY BE SEASONABLY DEFEATED, ALL THE HIGHEST 
 HOPES AND ENERGIES OF OUR COUNTRY MUST EVENTUALLY BE 
 TRAMPLED TO THE DUST BY THE CLOVEN HOOF OF ROME. It Will 
 
 not do to tell us that our apprehensions are merely visionary. 
 Too well do we know to the contrary. And, accordingly, being 
 thoroughly assured that this VILE CONSPIRACY AGAINST THE 
 
 RELIGION, LIBERTIES, AND PROPERTY OF ENGLAND, need only be 
 
 known in order to be defeated, we take every opportunity of 
 unmasking these diabolical intrigues, and of placing before our 
 country the evidences of its impending dangers." 
 
 Such was, and is, a truthful description of what Romanism 
 endeavours to accomplish; for wjtii all the Protean Jesuitry which 
 centuries of imposture and guil^have taught, it adapts itself to 
 the social complexions and political contingencies of the age, as 
 prudence may suggest, or ecclesiastical watchfulness require. 
 
Vlll PREFACE TO THE 
 
 The motto according to which the Scarlet Lady directs her pro- 
 ceedings, is ever in through harmony with Bellarmin's dictum, 
 " Heretics (to wit, ALL PROTESTANTS) when strong were to be com- 
 mitted to Chd, when weak to the executioner!" 
 
 It is then with an undiminished conviction that Popery is in 
 heart and soul the same ANTI-SCRIPTURAL LIE it always has been ; 
 and that, at the present hour,* it is putting forth its energies and 
 influences through every possible means and under every con- 
 ceivable mode the author commits a new edition of this poem to 
 the press; accompanied with a devout prayer, that He who is the 
 alone HEAD of the Church, and ESSENTIAL TRUTH, may graciously 
 condescend to bless its perusal to some minds : and, under the 
 guidance of his own Eternal Spirit, wield it as a subordinate 
 instrument for promoting the interests of that pure and perfect 
 Gospel, which is at once the uncompromising foe of all delusions, 
 Papal or Infidel, and the divine friend of our fallen humanity in 
 every age and clime. 
 
 As to the reception of this work by the public, it has been, on 
 the whole, such as might have been anticipated, at a period 
 when religion and politics, literature and criticism are so strangely 
 intermingled, and so variously controlled. Of its imperfections, the 
 writer is fully and humblingly aware : and, appealing as such a 
 work does, not to the popular sentiments of the hour, nor to those 
 emotions which belong to a fashionable taste,or to afrivolous theme, 
 it cannot be expected to gratify readers, with whom the spiritual 
 history of man and the destinies of God's revealed truth in our 
 world, are merely matters either of moral paradox or doctrinal 
 mystery, with which they have no sympathy whatever. Still, it 
 is a subject of no affected gratitude for the author to add, that 
 among those whose unbought appreciation has welcomed this 
 poem, are to be numbered, such men as MERLE D'AUBIGNE, the 
 eloquent historian of the " Great Reformation," the BISHOP OF 
 LLANDAFF, BICKERSTETH, the REV. HUGH WHITE, &c. &c.; and 
 others, " whose praise is in all the churches." Of course, no earthly 
 commendation, however exalted be the mind from which it 
 emanates, ought to be the chief motive or encouragement of a 
 Christian writer in his undertaking. The divine glory, and not 
 human praise, should be his primary aim. Yet there is nothing 
 in the principles of Christ, which forbids us to be grateful for the 
 cheering accent of a good man's approval. Amid the sarcasms of 
 the paltry, and the sneers of the envious, the expression of such 
 sympathy, is more than editions to those who can estimate the 
 value of a criticism, which cometh not so much from the 
 acuteness of an accomplished intellect, as from the depths of a 
 regenerated heart. The Holy Spirit is the only infallible teacher 
 of true moral science ; and he who participates not in His trans- 
 forming work, may indeed write eloquently, reason profoundly, 
 and cavil triumphantly, concerning any book or composition : 
 

 THIRD EDITION. IX 
 
 but amid all this, he will be incapacitated for the noblest functions 
 of the critic; that is, he will want a SPIRITUAL TASTE, without 
 which, whatsoever is holy in human composition cannot be 
 rightly understood. But of this, more hereafter. 
 
 On the attributes of Luther's character, the vileness of the 
 Ron ; in Apostacy, and the Unity of the Visible Church as dis- 
 organized by the principles of the early Reformation- much has 
 been written, and with different objects, by those who have reviewed 
 the present work. But, as every author is naturally supposed to 
 over-estimate the charms of his own Hero, and to exaggerate his 
 triumphs, moral or intellectual; we are glad in this edition to 
 offer some evidence on these points from parties whom no candid 
 person will accuse of what certain amphibious members of our 
 pure and apostolical church are pleased to denominate, " Ultra 
 Protestantism."* Hear then what Archdeacon Manning says in 
 his work on the " Unity of the Church," 
 
 " I am bound to say that, on the one hand, the just causes of 
 complaint which made Luther first address the bishops of Bran- 
 denburgh and Mersberg, and his steady appeals through every 
 gradation of ecclesiastical order to the award of a General Council ; 
 and, on the other, the violent and corrupt administration of Leo X., 
 ending in an excommunication against a man whose cause was 
 still unheard, seem effectually to clear both him and those who, for his 
 sake, were driven from the unity of the church,from the guilt of schism.''' 1 
 Manning on " The Unity of the Church," p. 328, 329. Lond. 1842. 
 
 In the second place, let us direct attention to the subsequent 
 quotations from a work, which Dr. Pusey, for some reason or other, 
 has ceased to record among his advertised works. We allude to 
 the " HISTORICAL INQUIRY INTO THE PROBABLE CAUSES OF THE 
 RATIONALISTIC CHARACTER LATELY PREDOMINANT IN THE THEO- 
 LOGY OF GERMANY, <fec. &c. By E. B. PUSEY, M.A., FELLOW OF 
 ORIEL COLLEGE, OXFORD. LONDON: RIVINGTON. 1828." Let 
 the reader, then, mark the high terms of admiration and reverence 
 in which Dr. Pusey, in his best production, alludes to the great 
 apostle of the German Reformation. We recommend him to the 
 especial attention of those who presume to talk their hideous non- 
 sense about Luther's reckless audacity, fanatical irreverence, &c. 
 <fec. : 
 
 u Much, both in the external and internal circumstances of the 
 German Reformation occurred to prevent its full and adequate 
 development. Had this been perfected in the spirit in which its 
 
 * The Bishop of London in his late charge, tells his clergy that so 
 far from their being ashamed of the name "Protestants," they ought 
 rather to glory in it. And with much reason; since the consistencies of 
 the sound churchman, as well as the orthodoxies of the sincere Chris- 
 tian, are here involved. For, what hook in the universe, next to the 
 Bible, protests against Rome with such doctrinal eloquence and scrip- 
 tural energy as the Prayer-hook of our primitive church? See also an 
 admirahle charge hy the Bishop of Llandaff. 
 
X PREFACE TO THE 
 
 GREAT INSTRUMENT might have completed it, if permitted tran- 
 quilly to finish his work, or supported by others, acting on his 
 own principles, and surveying the whole system of revolutions with 
 
 the COMPREHENSIVE AND DISCRIMINATING VIEW OF HIS MASTER- 
 MIND, the history of the German Church had probahly been alto- 
 gether different," &c. &c, " The fruitless attempts to satisfy an 
 uneasy and active conscience, by the meritorious performances of 
 a Romish convent, had opened his eyes to a right understanding of the 
 scripture, in whose doctrine alone it could find rest; and the clear and 
 discerning faith which this correspondence of scripture with his 
 own experience strengthened in him, gave him that instinctive 
 insight into the nature of Christianity which enabled him, for the 
 most part, UNFAILINGLY TO DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN ESSENTIALS 
 AND NON-ESSENTIALS, and raised him not only above the ASSUMED 
 
 AUTHORITY OF THE CHURCH, and above the MIGHT OF TRADITION," 
 
 &c. <fec., p. 7, 8. "The number of the NOBLE BAND, who were 
 actuated by the same spirit as Luther was, diminished, and their 
 agency disturbed by the troubles of the times," <fec. &c. " More 
 fatal than the impediments thus presented to the tranquil develop- 
 ment of the principles, were the internal divisions, originating in 
 an imperfect conception of its scheme," &c. &c. " These had 
 indeed BEEN CHECKED BY THE COMMANDING SPIRIT OF LUTHER." 
 P. 9. 
 
 The following beautiful passage, though not immediately refer- 
 ing to Luther himself, is yet too valuable in itself to be omitted 
 as the glorious theme of the Reformation: 
 
 " The Reformers, in consistency with their GREAT TENET, that 
 
 SCRIPTURE is the ONLY AUTHORITATIVE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN 
 
 KNOWLEDGE, had laid the study of the sacred volume as the 
 foundation of all theological science. In the pursuance of this 
 principle they had established as the rule of interpretation one 
 which, when correctly developed, contains all the elements of 
 right exposition, which have since been gradually vindicated by 
 the combination of several partial efforts. Their, or rather (mark 
 this, reader ! ) the BIBLICAL RULE, that ' scripture is its own inter- 
 preter' includes in itself the religious, historical, grammatical 
 elements, which were imperfectly, because separately, brought 
 forward by Spener, Semler, and Ernesti. For it is obvious that if 
 scripture is to be understood from itself, those only CAN RIGHTLY 
 
 AND FULLY UNDERSTAND IT, WHO HAVE A MIND KINDRED TO THAT 
 
 OF ITS AUTHORS; as any human production upon which the mind 
 of its author is impressed will be best understood by him whose 
 intellectual and moral character is most allied to the original 
 which it expresses. The individual is thus placed, as it were, at 
 the centre of the same circle from which the views of the author 
 emanated; and contemplates, therefore, every part in the same 
 order, harmony, and relation, of which they were originally pos- 
 sessed. In religious writing it is plain tjiat the spirit required is a 
 
THIRD EDITION. XI 
 
 religious spirit: that none can truly understand St. Paul or St. John 
 whose mind has not been brought into harmony with theirs has not 
 been purified and elevated by the same spirit ivith which they were filled; 
 and this unquestionably was what the pious Spener meant by his 
 much disputed assertion, that none but the regenerate could 
 understand holy scripture," p. 26, 27. u No wonder that H. 
 Muller should speak against the four DUMB CHURCH IDOLS, the 
 FONT, the PULPIT, the CONFESSIONAL, and the COMMUNION TABLE," 
 &c. &c. " Such a system could not endure ; it contained within 
 itself the seeds of its own dissolution; a re-action was almost the 
 unavoidable consequence, unless some one, or some succession of 
 men, GIFTED WITH LUTHER'S PIOUS AND DISCRIMINATING MIND, 
 
 SHOULD ESTABLISH A SEPARATION BETWEEN THIS ACCUMULATION OF 
 MERCENARY HUMAN DEFINITIONS; AND THE SIMPLE TRUTH SHOULD 
 REPLACE, BY THE INFLUENTIAL FAITH OF THE HEART, THE BARREN 
 CONTENTIOUS SCHOLASTICISM BY WHICH THE UNDERSTANDING ALONE 
 WAS OCCUPIED, OR RATHER WAS DISTRACTED." P. 49, 50. 
 
 Once more we shall venture to select a fine passage from this 
 (unfortunately) now neglected work. In allusion to Ernesti's 
 principles of interpretation, Dr. Pusey favours us with the follow- 
 ing deliverance. " He forgets that every new religion must form 
 to itself a new language; (query, in what sense is Christianity a 
 ' NEW religion?') that in order to convey new truths, words already 
 in use must indeed be employed to connect them with the primary 
 ideas of mankind; but that the signification of these words must 
 be modified, that they must be re-cast, remoulded, in order to 
 receive the stamp of the newly communicated truth. The appli- 
 cation of classical language, in its full strictness to the words of 
 Christianity, could but convert them into a document of mere 
 human speculation. That Xoyos ' signified ' reason ' and * widsom,' 
 in the classics, was a very superficial as well as entirely mistaken 
 ground for supposing that, in St. John, it meant nothing more 
 than the wisdom of the communications made to man. The effect 
 of this is seen in its full perniciousness in his immediate followers. 
 * Regeneration' was supposed to signify ' the mere reception into 
 a religious society;' the doctrine of the influence of the Holy Spirit 
 became more or less a certain attaining of praiseworthy qualities 
 with the (often merely external) assistance of God; the & ttvxi with 
 the Father's unity of disposition and will," &c. &c. IN THE 
 
 SCHOOL OF EXPERIENCE, OF LUTHER, HE WOULD HAVE LEARNT 
 THE ANALOGY OF DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE LIFE OF MOST CHRIS- 
 TIANS, AND THE DIFFERENT STAGES OF THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 
 
 Now, let the preceding passages from Dr. Pusey's " Historical 
 Inquiry " be considered in the spirit of their general significance, 
 and few will say, that our view of Luther's spiritual and intel- 
 lectual majesty as the Paul of the General Reformation is 
 exaggerated and overdrawn. And as, for the third point, in 
 regard to which the present writer has had the honour of being 
 b 
 
Xll PREFACE TO THE 
 
 battered and abused by very harsh and unmannerly epithets but 
 which, in the esteem of any man who will cut off his right hand 
 rather than surrender a single atom of that heavenly truth 
 " once delivered unto the saints" are only " full of sound and 
 fury, signifying nothing."* But, as a comment on the severe 
 language the following work applies to the Church of Rome, we 
 shall now resort, not to the pages of dissent, nor to the works of 
 tf Ultra-Protestants," but to none other writings than those of the 
 Rev. Henry Newman, B.D., Vicar of St. Mary's, the Virgin, 
 " Fellow of Oxen College, Oxford," and author of "Tract 90." 
 Let us hear then Mr. Newman himself on the essential character- 
 istics of Trentine Romanism. They are " according to the last 
 accounts" of Mr. Newman, by that gentleman himself, 
 
 4. In 1838, 
 
 u Their communion is infected with heresy ; we are bound to flee 
 it as a pestilence. They have established a lie in the place of God^s 
 truth,, and, by their claim of immutability in doctrine, cannot undo 
 the sin they have committed." Tract 20. 
 
 5. In 1834, 
 
 " The spirit of old Rome has risen again in its former place, and 
 has evidenced its identity by its works. It has possessed the 
 Church there planted, as an evil spirit might seize the demoniacs oj 
 primitive times, and makes her speak words which are not her own. 
 In the corrupt Papal system we have the very cruelty, the craft* and 
 the ambition of the Republic ; its cruelty in the unsparing sacrifice of 
 tlie happiness and virtue of individuals to a phantom of public expedi- 
 ency, in its forced celibacy within, and its persecutions without ; its 
 craft in its falsehoods, its deceitful deeds and lying wonders ; and its 
 
 * Those controversialists, who, skulking behind the protecting 
 shade of a newspaper or magazine, desire (to borrow Mr. Faber's 
 energetic term,) to " WHITEWASH" the black and ugly face of Roman- 
 ism, are very fond of describing all who will not spare the delusive 
 abominations of Popery, as "bigots and fanatics," &c. But, this 
 sophistical charge may be annihilated by a very simple proof. For 
 in the first place, it is not bigotry or fanaticism, but moral HONESTY 
 and manful SINCERITY, to christen the impostures of Rome with right 
 names names which intimate the HORRID NATURE of the things. In the 
 second place, the stark nonsense about Fenelon and Pascal, and their 
 turgid eulogies concerning the protection afforded by a few Popes in 
 the 10th, Hth, and 12th centuries to aid liberty, &c., have nothing to do 
 with the real question. When the mendacious pretensions of the 
 Roman Church are opposed, PRINCIPLES IN THEIR NATIVE AND NECES- 
 SARY OPERATION AS SUCH, AND NOT IN REFERENCE TO THEIR INCIDENTAL 
 DIVERSION FROM EXTERNAL AND LOCAL MODIFICATIONS, ARE INTENDED. 
 
 Any man who is capable of reasoning his way through the plainest 
 syllogism will see this must be the case. As to Fenelon and Pascal, 
 &c., it is quite forgotten, or rather wilfully hidden by these hollow 
 sophists, in so far as those great writers are believed and reverenced 
 by the admirers of the Reformation, it is purely on the ground that 
 their excellencies are doctrinal approximations to the simple " truth 
 as it is in Jesus, 1 ' and not as members of the Roman communion. 
 
THIRD EDITION. Xlll 
 
 grasping ambition in the very structure of its policy, in its assump- 
 tion of universal dominion ; old Rome is still alive ; nowhere have 
 its eagles lighted, but it still claims the sovereignty under another 
 pretence. The Roman Church I will not blame, but pity ; she is, 
 as I have said, spell-bound, as if by an evil spirit ; she is in 
 thraldom." 
 
 " In the book of Revelations, the sorceress upon the seven hills 
 is not the Church of Rome, as is often taken for granted, but 
 Rome itself, that bad spirit which, in its former shape, was the 
 animating principle of the fourth monarchy. In St. Paul's pro- 
 phecy, it is not the Temple or Church of God, but the Man of Sin 
 in the Temple, the old man or evil principle of the flesh which 
 exalteth itself against God. Certainly it is a mystery of iniquity, 
 and which may well excite our dismay and horror, that in the very 
 heart of the Church, in her highest dignity, in the seat of St. Peter, the 
 evil principle has throned itself, and rules. It seems as if that spirit 
 had gained subtlety by years ; Popish Rome had succeeded to 
 Roman Pagan ; and would that we had no reason to expect still 
 more crafty developments of Antichrist amid the wreck of institutions 
 and establishments which will attend the fall of the Papacy ! * * 
 I deny that the distinction is unmeaning. Is it nothing to be able 
 
 to look 011 OUR MOTHER TO WHOM WE OWE THE BLESSINGS OF 
 
 CHRISTIANITY (!!!) with affection instead of hatred, with pity 
 indeed, nay, and fear, but not with horror ? Is it nothing to 
 rescue her from the hard names which interpreters of prophecy 
 have put on her, as an idolatress and an enemy of God, when she 
 is deceived, rather than a deceiver ?" 
 
 I also say, 
 
 " She virtually substitutes an external ritual for moral obedience ; 
 penance for penitence, confession for sorrow, profession for faith, 
 the lips for the heart; such at least is her system as understood by 
 the many." 
 
 Also 1 say, in the same paper, 
 
 6. te In 1834 I also used of certain doctrines of the Church of 
 Rome, the epithets ' unscriptural,' 'profane,' 'impious,' 'bold,' 
 1 unwarranted,' ' blasphemous,' c gross,' ' monstrous,' ' cruel,' 
 4 administering deceitful comfort/ and ( unauthorized,' in Tract 
 38. I do not mean to say that I had not a definite meaning in 
 every one of these epithets, or that I did not weigh them before 
 I used them." 
 
 " With reference to this passage the same monitor had said:" 
 
 7. I said in 1837 of the Church of Rome, 
 
 " In truth she is a Church beside herself, abounding in noble 
 gifts and rightful titles, but unable to use them religiously ; crafty, 
 obstinate, wilful, malicious, cruel, unnatural, as mad men are. Or 
 rather, she may be said to resemble a demoniac, possessed with 
 principles, thoughts, and tendencies not her own ; in outward 
 form and in outward powers what God made her, but ruled within 
 
XIV PREFACE TO THE 
 
 by an inexorable spirit, who is sovereign in his management over 
 her, and most subtle and most successful in the use of her gifts. 
 Thus, she is her real self only in name, and till God vouchsafe to 
 restore her, we must treat Jier as if she were Hunt evil one which 
 governs her?"* 
 
 After this, will our anonymous revilers accuse us of employing 
 unjustifible language to the " Man of Sin ?" 
 
 Let us now speak of the literary execution of this work. And 
 here, it is but common justice for the author to state, that in con- 
 sequence of the poem having been prematurely announced, the 
 pi oof sheets were pushed through the press with imprudent rapi- 
 dity ; in many cases, no revises were obtained ; and hence, many 
 errors, misprints, and maculce, went forth in the former editions, 
 which more time in conducting proofs through the press, would 
 have prevented. In the present edition, it is hoped that these errors 
 have been removed; and obscure passages, ambiguous epithets, 
 and a few daring terms which approached the borders of irre- 
 verence, have been altogether taken away. And while in a work 
 often touching on the more recondite movements of our myste- 
 rious nature, as well as on the hidden workings of scriptural truth 
 over the individual heart and conscience, language at times cannot 
 but dimly and remotely give forth the meanings of the mind ; 
 yet, on the whole, few perhaps who read in a candid spirit, will 
 find in these pages what is incomprehensively obscure. 
 
 And here, for many reasons, the writer will venture to commend 
 unto conscientious minds some passing observations, with refer- 
 ence to the spirit of our modern criticism. By the courtesy of 
 his publisher, a vast number of reviews on this work were for- 
 warded to him. And assuredly, so far as these specimens of 
 popular reviewing may be considered as generically related to 
 the times, they suggest much that might occupy a thoughtful 
 reader in illustrating. In some cases these criticisms were 
 manly, vigorous, and profound ; censure was administered in a 
 tone which nothing but the exactings of morbid vanity could 
 condemn ; and the apostolic attributes of Luther's true heart and 
 boundless mind were seized on with spiritual accuracy, and illus- 
 trated with energetic effect. In others again, there was much of 
 that pert and superficial prate, that vicious tone of vulgar 
 depreciation, that hasty and headlong style of censure which 
 are the bane and blight of literature. One can never read 
 such emanations as these, without being reminded of what South 
 calls, " The imposture of language." Words without meaning, 
 meaning without truth, and truth without application are the 
 essence of such execrable displays. Most admirably does Foster 
 (See ESSAY 3d.) describe a host of these literary skirmishers, 
 when he remarks, " the most uncultivated mind may gratify its 
 vanity, and laziness, and malice all at once, by a prompt applica- 
 tion OF VAGUE CONDEMNATORY words" * * * " You cannot 
 
THIRD EDITION. XV 
 
 wonder that compendious words of decision which can give quick 
 vent to crude impatient censure, emit plenty of antipathy in a feiv 
 syllables, and save the condemner the difficulty of telling exactly 
 what he wants to mean, should have had an extensive circulation." 
 Would it not be useful if these gentlemen who are so obliging as 
 to prescribe to Posterity its duties, and predict what future taste 
 will admire, and are in their own estimation the very Popes of 
 mental infallibility, were sometimes to remember that of all 
 vulgar attainments in this world, the utterance of harsh language, 
 bitter irony, and snarling depreciation, is the most so. Epithets 
 to be appropriate, ought to be concentrated arguments: but a 
 blind irruption of sarcastic terms in a review, without truth or 
 taste, is only a proof that the man who permits this, has more 
 petulant words in his memory than discerning sense in his mind ; 
 and is in principle as unsound, as he is in temper atrabilious. It 
 is an easy thing to be severe ; but oh, how noble it is to be just !* 
 There is yet another mode in which certain outcasts of litera- 
 ture in our day, seek to avenge their disappointment on writers 
 whose success is perverted by jaundiced minds into a kind of 
 satire on their own failure. We allude to reviews which can be 
 only described as revoltingly personal, or atrociously unjust. In 
 
 * As a mere specimen of what is meant, we may refer to the obesity 
 which a certain weekly review (not more distinguished by the flippancy 
 of its style, than for the feebleness of its criticism), displayed in its 
 attempt to be irresistibly witty over some passages in this poem. For 
 instance, the author has in one portion alluded to those grandeurs of 
 moral association which mark our world for pre-eminence in the system 
 of God's universe, through the Incarnation of the Eternal Son ; and has 
 ventured to employ a comparison between cur Economy and other 
 worlds, and that analogy which may be established between an EPIC 
 form of composition and one of an inferior cast. But this, the wise man 
 of the weekly oracle cannot, and does not understand. And yet, in a 
 series of noble criticisms which appeared on this work in America, and 
 obviously written by a critic who was not ashamed of " Christ and him 
 crucified," this very illustration is selected for high approval as involv- 
 ing theology and poetry to a correspondent extent. Here, we perceive 
 the difference between one man who counts the doctrines of the cross 
 " foolishness," and another, who welcomes every devout offering which 
 human sincerity, however imperfect, contributes to its illustration. 
 
 Since this work appeared, the author has met two passages, which 
 help to confirm him in the hope that the passage to which he alludes, 
 is not after all, either far-fetched, or unphilosophical. The first occurs 
 in Clement Alexandria, and the other is from Cudworth. " TOVTO rot 
 
 XOC.I 70 VMV \S60ff [AVlfft* IfAfAlXto;, XCCI TCtiV S'Oi^tlMV T'/1V dtOtQUVtKV tlS TOC,%IV 
 
 ivtritViV tf&Quvots IVK, dy 0X05- o xofffAO? oit>TM oigfAovioc, 'ytvviToc.i" " Hoc et 
 universitatem rerum apteque numeroseq'ue concinnavit, et elementa 
 dissonantia sic docuit servare concentum ut totus hie mundus harmonia 
 quadam constaret." Clem. Alex Coshort. Ad. Gentes. 
 
 " The evolution of the world as Plptinus calls it, is oc.X'/i9itrr^ov voty/aa, 
 a TRUE POEM, and we men, histrionic actors on the stage, who notwith- 
 standing insert something of our own into the poem too." Intellectual 
 System, Book I. Cap. 5. p. 879 Tol Ed. 1678. 
 
XVI PREFACE TO THE 
 
 some cases, indeed, the heartless outrage which certain anony- 
 mous* assailants are allowed to commit through the press, 
 surpass even the bounds of common morals and social decency: 
 
 * The mysterious wu, however, occasionally condescends to unmantle 
 itself, and emerge in all the glory of long-hidden worth and wisdom. 
 Thus, The Right Hon. Babington Macaulay, M.P., being unwilling 
 that a grateful posterity should not know the name of that intellectual 
 magician who has instructed it, through the medium of the Edinburgh 
 Review, thought proper to oblige the world by collecting his lucubra- 
 tions, and publishing them in "3 vols. 8vo." Among these oracular 
 treasures he has the exceeding bad taste to reprint an insolent piece of 
 mendacity, which he published some ten years since against the writer 
 of this, and which was suggested to him by certain rival booksellers 
 who publish his namesake's poems, and are among the proprietors of 
 the Scotch Journal. The apparent object of this diatribe,* where 
 dullness and meanness contend for mastery, is to prove, 1st, That a 
 youthful author had the audacity to publish a poem, which, in the 
 course of one year, ran through six or seven editions ; and, 2d, That 
 the said transgressor (though he had neither influence to command, 
 nor literary connexions to secure, the criticism of the day,) must have 
 bribed nearly the whole of the British press ; because, in despite of Mr. 
 Macaulay being alive, and the Edinburgh oracle in circulation, such 
 an offensive proceeding was permitted. So far, however, as that author 
 is personally concerned, the honourable member is quite at liberty 
 to pursue his critical assassinations in the Edinburgh Review or any 
 other receptacle of printed malice he may prefer. Still, perhaps, it 
 may be humbly suggested to him, whether he would not be more pro- 
 fitably and wisely employed in constructing speeches, than in repub- 
 lishing such abortions of spleen as the one here alluded to He may be 
 assured that any " critical'' or "historical" underling of the lowest form, 
 attached to a bookseller's review, could accomplish this work quite as 
 skilfully, and almost as spitefully as the honourable member himself. 
 
 We really trust, however, this meek gentleman and modest orator 
 will not be thrown into "historical" convulsions, or "critical" hys- 
 terics, when he is informed that " THE OMNIPRESENCE OF THE DEITY," 
 notwithstanding his interesting anathemas, continues to circulate and 
 to be read even up to this present time. Nay more, it has actually had 
 the enormous effrontery to be on the brink of a twenty-second edition 
 is extensively republished in America, and has also been reprinted in 
 various parts of the Continent, and partially translated into the Swedish 
 language ; and what renders all this more shocking still, is the fact, 
 that this outrageous proceeding has taken place, albeit that work has 
 never had any publishing Leviathan of Paternoster Row to assist its sale, 
 nor been puffed by quarterlies, nor praised by monthlies, nor lauded by 
 weeklies ; but, on the contrary, has been nibbled at again and again, by 
 the whole fry of our periodical literature, who have the good taste of 
 our country too much at heart not to be seriously affected by such disas- 
 trous popularity, when enjoyed by so meritless a production. But 
 what, if after all, it should turn out that there is more truthful powei' 
 in the poem than there is generous feeling in some reviewers' hearts ? 
 What then ? why 
 
 " Poor Appius threatens with tremendous eye, 
 Like some fierce tyrant in old tapestry." 
 
 * For some remarks on this attempt, the reader who feels the slightest interest in 
 tlii- matter, is referred to a note at the end of the author's poem, " OXFORD." 
 
THIRD EDITION. XV11 
 
 and language suited to the most ferocious development of envy, 
 malice, and u all unrighteousness," finds its way into journals 
 where we might well have expected better things. To expose 
 these men, to analyse their malignity, to unfold their motives, 
 and refute their oracular falsehoods, we leave to others. The 
 danger is, that a Christian man, by being brought into contact 
 with such elements of degeneracy, maybe tempted into an imita- 
 tion of the very acrimony he condemns. Let it be sufficient 
 therefore, to remind the reader, that the currency of cheap 
 popular literature has opened avenues of critical employment, and 
 supplied modes of literary commerce to thousands ; and that, 
 consequently, k< critics" are now to be had of all sizes, sorts, shapes, 
 and conditions; from the great Mufti who shakes his ponderous 
 head behind a quarterly review, down to some puny scribbler in the 
 lowest periodical. Again, let it be remembered, that the pursuits 
 of literature are no longer confined to the accomplished, the refined, 
 and the intellectual; but, from various causes, are now converted 
 into a mercenary profession by vast numbers, and that, as a 
 natural consequence, rivalries, envies, and detractions prevail and 
 operate to an extent beyond calculation. Booksellers against 
 booksellers, reviews against reviews, and authors against authors ! 
 Such is, to a great extent, a true picture of what is now going on 
 in " the literary world." And when we add to this the fact that, 
 a great portion of the metropolitan critiques which appear, are 
 the peevish emanations of disappointed authors, and small poets 
 run to seed; or else of sordid minds, who delight to decry what 
 they have not the power to equal, we have a tolerable explana- 
 tion of much that would otherwise be inexplicable in the criti- 
 cisms of the hour.* 
 
 * To such an extent is the absence of honourable principle carried in 
 the department of modern reviewing, that you may always predict, with 
 tolerable accuracy, how certain authors will be handled in certain papers 
 and periodicals BEFORE THKIR LAST PUBLICATION APPEARS. The en- 
 mity, and rivalship, and depreciation are prepared beforehand, and all 
 alive for their work ; and, after the title-page is read, a few leaves 
 opened, and a superficial hunt for some imperfect lines or incorrect 
 expressions is made, the "WE" is quite equipped for his achievement. 
 The real claims of the hook are not of the remotest consequence : 
 justice, verity, and candour are quite out of the question : THE MAN is TO 
 
 BE ABUSED AND HIS WRITING CONDEMNED. THIS, AND THIS ALONE, IS TO BK 
 
 REGARDED. Within a few months only, a person who has been behind 
 the scenes, informed the writer of this, that in many cases volumes are 
 forwarded from the conductor of a periodical, on which is written, " To 
 be abused," or " To be praised !" And, is it not notorious in our me- 
 tropolitan circles, that the publication of a new book is often considered 
 an excellent opportunity of paying off some old score? And this may 
 be easily accomplished by obtaining a secure position behind the shelter 
 of the anonymous system, where the " WE " can be as oracularly male- 
 volent as his splenetic heart desires. Of course there are noble excep- 
 tions to all this. There are men engaged in modern criticism, who would 
 disdain whatever is mean, malignant, or unfair ^ \vho censure with free- 
 
XV111 PREFACE TO THE 
 
 This is not the language of aggrieved temper, but the expres- 
 sion of simple truth. We entreat the reader, first to recall to his 
 memory the offensive specimens of villainous ill-nature, which from 
 time to time appear ; and then ask him, whether our modern 
 system of reviewing is not, to a great extent, a disgrace to Chris- 
 tendom, and a satire on the human mind ? Let him contrast the 
 profound and masterly critiques of some of the popular Gazettes 
 in Germany, and compare them with the trashy, truculent, and 
 unscrupulous stuff which so often disgraces certain publications of 
 England, and he will concur with our regret that the noble office 
 of criticism should be so frequently contaminated by unprincipled 
 empirics and heartless lampooners, who serve only to caricature its 
 design and corrupt its influence. Would that some of these men 
 might remember, that the man who knowingly prints a falsehood, 
 wilfully publishes a slander, and intentionally seeks to hide from 
 public appreciation another's merit, is responsible to a far higher 
 tribunal than a human. Not only does he indurate his own 
 conscience, and cause a reaction of evil on his own moral nature 
 by the mean wrong he commits ; but, he is also adding another 
 item to that dread account he must one day render before the 
 judgment-seat of The Eternal. Yes, we repeat it, nothing is 
 easier in this age of superficial, smart, and clever literature, than 
 to te cut up" any work where there is pretension to religious depth, 
 or spiritual intensity. Select the weakest parts ; bring into glar- 
 ing prominence all imperfections, and keep in the safe back- 
 ground such portions as may deserve commendation ; quote dis- 
 connected passages ; misrepresent ambiguous meanings ; utter 
 sundry truisms on taste, and some stilted common-place a.bout 
 Milton ; talk learnedly of reckless presumption and rash pretence; 
 scoff, sneer, and snarl over every expression of high faith and 
 holy feeling ; be vastly witty in your own idea, and quite oracular 
 in your views ; above all, use a plentiful crop of interjections, and 
 sprinlde the criticism with italics, and take care not to quote largely, 
 lest you may glide into a meritorious passage which might over- 
 throw the malignity of the whole thing ; and so magnify incidental 
 faults, as to make them appear like general characteristics: Do this, 
 and then you have achieved what some people consider " a capital 
 cut up !" something first-rate, and worthy of all commendation. 
 And yet, it may be confidently asked, what man with a sound heart, 
 an honourable mind, or with an atom of Christianity in his nature, 
 will condescend to such mental debasement? But if there be 
 men found capable of such criticism ; if from time to time, certain 
 
 dom, but who can also appreciate with justice, and praise with good 
 humour. Still, it is maintained, (with especial regard to London,) 
 where digues and coteries, and emulative interests, and proprietary 
 claims, are all concentrated into blended action, there, with mourn- 
 ful truth it may be affirmed, the system requires a thorough moral 
 reform and Christian regeneration. 
 
THIRD EDITION. XIX 
 
 writers will put forth mendacities for judgments ; and try to per- 
 suade the public that the work rendered is not what it reaUii is, 
 but what their malignity rvills it to be, there is only one descrip- 
 tion by which such characters can be pourtrayed ; but that is a 
 divine one, and is found in the writings of St. John, "THEY LIE 
 
 AND THE TRUTH IS NOT IN THEM." 
 
 How far or not, Christianity,* with all its ennobling influences, 
 ^YiIl yet be brought to bear on the responsibilities of our criticism, 
 
 * An excellent article on the " Principles nf Christian Revfavmgt" 
 appeared, some little while since, in the " Church of England Quar- 
 terly," in which, among other exposures of critical imposture, the 
 writer observes " Sometimes direct bribery, sometimes political pa- 
 tronage, sometimes the more allowable effect of personal friendship, 
 sometimes a reciprocation of similar services all these causes operate 
 to a large extent." In harmony with this strain, an article on the 
 dishonesties of modern reviewing, appeared also in a late number of 
 " The We.-stmm.fter Review," in which the propriety of the name being 
 appended, is advocated. And, assuredly, if this plan were pursued, it 
 would go far, if not to originate a positive good in the form of pro- 
 found criticism, at least, to soften those gross asperities which so often 
 disgrace the Press. Let all allowance be made for constitutional 
 differences of mental taste, moral temperament, and social feeling; 
 let the vanities and infirmities of human judgment be taken into 
 account; let the arrogance- dullness, and literary worthlessness of an 
 author be also considered; and when all this is admitted, who will 
 deny, that nothing short of immorality, heresy or impurity in a book, 
 can justify those outpourings of vile abuse which certain reviews from 
 time to time exhibit ? Really, if men were to be guided by such enor- 
 mities, they ought to conclude, that a wrong word, an obscure line, or 
 a false epithet, is not simply an offence against the canons of taste, 
 but a horrible breach in the first principles of human nature itself: a 
 transgression which must be duly castigated by two or three columns 
 of malevolent print, where the vilest propensities of an envious heart are 
 allowed to growl in triumph ; or else, to savagely caricature whatever 
 the language of some nameless depredator chooses to baptize as in- 
 sipid, or bad. 
 
 We have said, and we repeat it unless the Genius of paltriness ceases 
 to paralyze and debase so much of our popular criticism, it will soon 
 lose the little influence it now wields. On this subject, the writer 
 has an admirable letter from the lamented Southey, taking pre- 
 cisely the same views as are here intimated, which he hopes one day 
 will see the light. Meanwhile, let us remind a Christian reader of this 
 fact, that criticisms are, to a great degree, a* the men who write them: 
 and if genuine nobility of mind, a pure love for truth, and generous 
 loftiness of spirit which disdains what is low, crawling, and ill-natured, 
 do not appertain to the latter how can we expect more than what is 
 mean or malicious, in the former? Characters of the cast here alluded 
 to, must not only he instructed into the functions of the true Critic, but 
 also christianized into the decent virtues of honesty, candour, and truth. 
 Swagger and scarcasm compose their leading tenets: and there is not a 
 spiritual man in the empire, who does not with all charity hope the day 
 may come, when the assassin who stabs from behind an abusive print, 
 may repent before the Judge of Hearts, and turn towards.the Mercy-seat 
 with the publican's prayer. 
 
XX PREFACE TO THE 
 
 we cannot tell ; but few perhaps will deny, that nothing short oi 
 such will redeem it from that system of sectarian fanaticism, 
 venal hostility, mean rivalship, or merciless injustice to which so 
 vast a portion of it is now subject. The consequences of this 
 abuse, however, are evident. The more cultivated classes of the 
 reading public are gradually becoming awake to the meanness, 
 malignity, party spirit, and carping detractions of periodical 
 literature. For, with all their guile and dishonesty, reviews can- 
 not thrust dull mediocrity into fame ; and, on the other hand, 
 with all their infamous injustice, falsehood, and acerbity they 
 cannot prevent intellectual merit from forcing its way into the 
 approval of the wise, the candid, and the good. 
 
 If now in conclusion, we may presume to offer an opinion on 
 what is essential to the equipment of a true critic ; so that his 
 functions may be lifted out of the low region of mere secularity, 
 into the loftier atmosphere of hallowed truths and heaven-born 
 associations, we would say three things are pre-eminently needed 
 to constitute a noble critic. 1st, Intellectual competency. 2d, 
 Moral rectitude. 3d, A spiritual faculty. As to the first, we 
 understand by it, the possession of a pure imagination, a refined 
 judgment, an intense love of the beautiful, a discriminating taste, 
 a talent for analysis and synthesis, mental intuition, and a pro- 
 found reverence for the Intellect of Man. But on this subject, let 
 us hear the words of a Master A. W. Schlegel. " No man can 
 be a true critic or connoisseur who does not possess a universality 
 of mind, who does not possess the flexibility, which, throwing 
 aside all personal predilections and blind habits, enables him to 
 transport himself into the peculiarities of other ages and nations, 
 to feel them, as it were, from their proper central point, and 
 what ennobles human nature, and to recognize and respect what- 
 ever is beautiful and grand, under those external modifications 
 which are necessary to their existence, and which sometimes even 
 seem to disguise them." 
 
 As to the second qualification, how applicable are Tacitus' 1 
 words, in his exquisite fragment on oratory " Nemo orator 
 nisi bonus" so with a genuine critic. There must be a deep 
 love for the truth in his nature; a free and unfettered love for 
 Humanity, under all its manifold utterances and complexions ; 
 a catholic regard for whatsoever things are lovely, pure, and 
 of good report ; together with a high disdain for the mean, the 
 envjous, and the malignant, or else, whatever may be the mental 
 acuteness of a critic, he will want that severe rectitude which is 
 the binding charm which harmonizes into a generous whole both 
 his censure and his praise. A man inspired by sentiments like 
 these, writes u icith the fear of God before his eyes" and looks 
 beyond the poor applause of 'his fellow clay. His object is to 
 widen the region of human happiness, and so to elevate the just, 
 
THIRD EDITION, XXI 
 
 the beautiful, the true and the noble before the apprehensions 
 of mankind, that art science and literature may become the 
 handmaids of social virtue, and the sisters of genuine religion. 
 
 Finally, and perha.ps chiefly, in the highest departments of 
 criticism, where the theme is in alliance with the objects of 
 faith, the perfections of Deity, the destinies of eternity, the 
 glories of the Incarnated Logos, and the profound actings of the 
 Invisible Spirit through the organs of our human being there 
 we feel assured something beyond intellectual competency, and 
 what surpasses even moral rectitude, is required before the critic 
 can be worthy of this exalted office. He must, in truth, have that 
 which nothing under the throne of God can give him; which genius 
 inspires not; imagination conceives not; talent commands not; 
 eloquence supplies not ; nor education bestows,nor example begets, 
 nor all the culture of the intellect, though carried to the summit 
 of possible attainment, will ever procure him; and that is, a 
 SPIRITUAL FACULTY. This is that "SECRET of the Lord which is 
 with them that FEAR HIM," and with none else. 
 
 But let us endeavour to explain what may be understood by a 
 Spiritual Faculty. There are three conceivable modes under which 
 objects are manifested to human apprehension. The first is physi- 
 cal, whereby sensible forms are perceived ; the second is intellec- 
 tual, whereby reason looks into the system of things, and to some 
 extent understands their mutual relation, adaptation, and position 
 in the universe of God. But there is a third mode, and that is 
 altogether, a spiritual one. Now here is the grand distinction : 
 while the majority of men are more or less adequately endowed 
 for the two former modes of apprehension, no man by nature is 
 competent to the third. And why? Because " that which is born 
 of the flesh is flesh, and that which is BORN OF THE SPIRIT is 
 SPIRIT." Precisely, therefore, as for the discernment of natural 
 truth a sensible faculty is needed; for the discernment of mental 
 truth, a reasonable faculty; so for the apprehending of spiritual 
 truth, a spiritual faculty is required. Listen to the august an- 
 nouncement of Christ, ** Except a man be BORN AGAIN, he cannot 
 SEE the kingdom of God." Now the kingdom of God is a divine 
 element, reigning for a divine purpose, and with a divine power, 
 in and over the creation. And the Spirit which by grace is imparted 
 to a believer, is that supernatural Power in him which corresponds 
 with the hidden divinity which constitutes " the kingdom of God" 
 in the creature. In harmony with this, the apostle of the Gen- 
 tiles thus reasons : " The THINGS OF GOD knoweth no man 
 (i.e. simply as such,) but the SPIRIT OF GOD." " But the natural 
 man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God ; for they are 
 FOOLISHNESS UNTO HIM: neither can he knotv them, because they 
 are SPIRITUALLY DISCERNED." "But," argues the inspired logi- 
 cian, "He that is SPIRITUAL judgeth all things, (i.e. of a spiritual 
 order,) yet he HIMSELF is JUDGED OF NO MAN." The application 
 
XXII PREFACE TO THE 
 
 of this to criticism is as follows: There are, it will be granted 
 manifold kinds of literature ; one species belongs to the World, 
 another to the Flesh, and another to the Devil. But God also 
 hath His literature, both in prose and verse ; and our argu- 
 ment is this : that precisely in proportion as a writer hath the 
 Divine Spirit inhabiting his being with a teaching light and 
 transforming purity, and under the tuition of that Spirit pro- 
 phesies for God, and His Christ, and glory to that same extent 
 both the man and his work MUST BE repulsive, and half incompre- 
 hensible to critics who have not that same Spirit residing in them. 
 Now, let us imagine a reviewer, who is, amid all the graces of 
 an embellished mind, cultured taste, and moreover of correct 
 moral feeling, but secular in his ideas, and unrenewed in his heart, 
 sitting down to any work, whether poetical or prosaic, where 
 decided spirituality is the influencing soul that quickens and 
 etherealizes the entire composition. The question is, how far is 
 such a reviewer really capacitated to deliver a fair judgment on 
 such a work \ Why, let the plain truth be honestly declared, in 
 so far as the genius of godliness is considered, the man will be alto- 
 
 f ether in the dark. He wants that spiritual faculty, by which " the 
 ingdom of God" in mind, as well as in matter, in books, as well 
 as in character, is ALONE to be discerned, Much we grant he will 
 accomplish, that taste and talent may applaud. For instance, he 
 may detect bombast, expose absurdity, analyze metaphors, ridicule 
 mistakes, and put into italics peculiar words, and speckle with 
 mocking interjections any incidental extravagancies into which 
 a Christian author falls, and there his triumph ends. The hallow- 
 ing spirit which the presence of divine truths and principles and 
 sentiments will breathe over the works and words of a Christian, 
 altogether escapes his perceptions, and masters his com- 
 prehension. His criticism is like his character, " of the earth, 
 earthy;" points, and syllables, and sentences the mere palpa- 
 bilities of the composition he may fully seize ; but after all, how 
 much is there beyond all this, of high beauty, and holy magic, and 
 genuine worth, which none but a man in whom dwells " the 
 spirit of Christ," can appreciate or admire ? 
 
 Never therefore, ought we to be surprised when the terms, 
 u bombast," " paradox," " nonsense," " turgidity," " metaphysi- 
 cal haze," " sublimated trash," u sounding absurdities," and 
 sundry other polite and pleasing descriptions, which may be 
 shaken at random out of a dictionary, are often applied to works 
 of decided spirituality ; when they are reviewed by men unto 
 whom religion is a negation, the spirit of God a theological idea, 
 and the things of eternity a parson's dream, and nothing more ! 
 
 Should therefore these thoughts happen to meet the eye of 
 any author who has baptized his intellect into the principles of 
 the Bible, and is wont to be visited by the snarls and sneers of a 
 critic, whose cold infidelity can but ill conceal its distaste for God 
 
TRIRD EDITION. XX111 
 
 through the thin disguise of the hesitating language it adopts on 
 Christian themes, let him not be discouraged; but *' tell it out 
 that the Lord is king," as boldly and unflinchingly as ever. Let 
 him remember, that Christ is to be honoured in literature as well 
 as in life; but that the " world knoweth Him not." Yes, the vast 
 Creation, as constituting a material autograph of its Maker in 
 letters of dim magnificence and veiled mystery ; the divine sym- 
 bolism which pervades all nature ; the Headship of the exalted 
 Redeemer ; his mystical union with the universal church ; the 
 transforming omnipotence of his Word ; the omnipresence of his 
 inpalpable Spirit; the unfolding drama of Providence in connection 
 with the mysterious Cross ; and the predestinated enthronement 
 of Messiah over a redeemed and regenerated world, why costly 
 truths and celestial themes like unto these, have been and ever 
 will be, a mock and a mystery to secular taste, and the mere 
 victim of this world; however eloquent his language, acute his 
 wit, or classical his style, or accomplished his mental powers.* 
 
 Had our space permitted, we might have argued in the same 
 way, that as a christianised mind is absolutely necessary to 
 capacitate the critic for pronouncing a proper judgment on a 
 Christian volume ; so also in regard to the elements of human 
 character, how is it possible a man who lives by sense, walks by 
 sight, and cares no more than a Gallio for Christianity and its 
 creed, can ever comprehend their nature or applaud their 
 actions, when those elements happen to be spiritualised by faith 
 and irradiated by religion ? And above all men, this holds in 
 reference to Luther. In him, we find a superhuman reliance on 
 God, heroic zeal for Christ, a perpetual sympathy with the 
 Spirit's movement, and a sublime conviction that in the WORD, 
 personal and written, are to be found all the reason, science, 
 beauty, sublimity and harmony of the universe, in their concen- 
 trated essence and perfection. Such a Being as this, can never, 
 even in bare idea, much less in his moral reality, be understood 
 without at least a portion of divine enthusiasm for God, and 
 Christ, and that love of man by which his own spirit was ennobled 
 and actuated. With all his faults, take him as a whole, perhaps 
 our world will never look upon his like again. And while the 
 blind Papist is instructed by the priest to consider the German 
 monk a Satanic incubus ; and the man of literary pursuits and 
 earth-born tastes can rarely allow him more than historical pre- 
 eminence in the controversies of the church ; it is gratifying to 
 
 * Concerning that higher revelation of divine beauty, which a 
 genius consecrated by the Spirit of God loves to discern, we cannot 
 resist referring the reader to a passage from Frederic Von Schelegel's 
 work, The Philosophy of Life," Nature too is a book written within 
 and without, in which the finger of God is clearly visible ; a species 
 of holy writ in a bodily form ; a glorious panegyric, as it were, on 
 God's omnipotence, expressed in the most vivid symbols."/?. 85. 
 
XXIV PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 think that by those who bear on the forehead of their lives the 
 signature of His cross Whom they adore,_Luther is revered as a 
 human battle-axe in the hands of the Almighty, for cleaving 
 asunder that System of sacerdotal imposture which has ever been 
 "the abomination of desolation," standing in "the holy place" of 
 God's truth and man's salvation. 
 
 " I did not learn my divinity all at onee, but was constrained to 
 search deeper and deeper, to which my temptations brought me; 
 
 for no MAN WTHOUT TEMPTATIONS CAN ATTAIN TO THE TRUE UNDER- 
 STANDING OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. I had, hanging on my neck, 
 the pope, the universities, all the deeply learned, and with them 
 the Devil himself. These hunted me into the Bible, wherein I 
 diligently read, and at length (God be praised!) attained to the 
 true understanding of them." These are Luther's own broad, 
 bold, and characteristic words; and they form a fitting preface to 
 a fine eulogy on his majestic career, from the pen of the polished 
 Atterbury. 
 
 " Martin Luther's life was a continued warfare; he was engaged 
 against the united forces of the papal world, and he stood the 
 shock of them bravely, both with courage and success. He was a 
 man certainly of high endowments of mind and great virtues: he 
 
 reasoning with all the subtlety that these plain truths he delivered 
 would bear. His thoughts were bent always on great designs, 
 and he had a resolution fitted to go through with them. The 
 assurance of his mind was not to be shaken or surprised, and that 
 TOL^O-IO, of his (for I know not what else to call it) before the 
 Diet of Worms was such as might have become the days of the 
 apostles. His life was holy, and, when he had leisure for retire- 
 ment, severe: his virtues chiefly active and homiletical, and not 
 those lazy, sullen ones of the cloister. He had no ambition but 
 in the service of God; for other things, neither his enjoyment nor 
 wishes ever went higher than the bare conveniences of living. 
 He was of a temper peculiarly averse to covetousness or any base 
 sin, and charitable even to a fault, without respect to his occa- 
 sions. If among this crowd of virtues a failing crept in, we must 
 remember that an apostle himself had not been irreproachable; 
 if, in the body of his doctrine, one flaw is to be seen, yet the 
 greatest lights of the church, and in the purest times of it, were, 
 we know, not exact in their opinions. Upon the whole, we have 
 great reason to break out in the phrase of the prophet, and say, 
 k How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that 
 bringeth glad tidings !' " 
 
EXTRACT 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST EDITION.' 
 
 "The progress of the Reformation in Luther's own mind; a very 
 curious subject. Such were the great talents and qualities of Luther, 
 and such the situation of Europe at the time, that the Reformation in 
 fact passed from the mind of the one into the mind of the other." 
 Professor Smyth's Lectures on Modern History, Vol. I., p. 2G5, Edit. 1841. 
 
 "When I contemplate the whole system as it affects the great funda- 
 mental principles of morality, the trrrafirnm, as it were, of pur hu- 
 manity ; then trace its operation in the sources and conditions of 
 national strength and well-being ; and, lastly, consider its woful influ- 
 ences on the innocence and sanctity of the female mind and imagination, 
 on the faith and happiness, the gentle fragrancy and unnoticed ever- 
 present verdure of domestic life, I can with difficulty avoid applying to 
 it what the rabbins fable of the fratricide Cain that the firm earth trem- 
 bled whenever he strode, and the grass turned black beneath his feet.*' 
 Coleridge on the Idea, &c. &c., p. 131, 132. 
 
 THE following pages are an attempt to reflect in a poetical form, 
 by a series of mental tableaux, some of the prominent features and 
 prevailing expressions in the life, character, and work, of the fear- 
 less Luther. Though each view be distinct, yet it is hoped that 
 in the spirit of its resulting effect, the poem will be found com- 
 bined into the unity of a moral whole. How far, or not, the 
 writer may have succeeded, in a style of thought and structure of 
 plan somewhat out of the popular track, must be left to the 
 candour and criticism of others to decide. Whatever may be the 
 reception of these pages, they are at least submitted to the public 
 eye with unaffected deference ; and with the entire conviction 
 that, if proved to be meritless, their failure must be ascribed to 
 
 * In order to reduce the volume to its present size and price, it has 
 been required to exclude the greater part of the Preface to the First 
 Edition. Hereafter, the whole Introduction will be published in an 
 enlarged form, as an Essay on the Principles of the Reformation, 
 
 P ; 
 Ic 
 
XXVI EXTRACT FROM THE 
 
 the incapacity of the author, and not to any deficiency of interest 
 in the subject. 
 
 Luther, in the lion-hearted daring of his conduct, and in the 
 robust and rugged grandeur of his faith, may well be considered 
 as the Elijah of the Reformation ; while his life, by the stern and 
 solemn realities of its experiences, and the almost ideal evolutions 
 of events by which it was accompanied, constitutes indeed, the 
 embodied Poem of European protestantism. But, as with others 
 who make or move the history of mankind, Luther must be con- 
 templated under that twofold aspect, which is answerable to the 
 twofold region, where the moral features of manhood are expressed, 
 or betrayed. In the one, we meet those external realities 
 which stand forth feelingly and conspicuously on the broad sur- 
 face of biography and history ; in the other, we are presented 
 with those latencies of character which appertain more to the 
 chronicles of the soul, and are to be detected chiefly in the delight- 
 ful egotisms wherewith Luther has sprinkled his comments ; or in 
 the play and sparkle of his colloquial excitement ; but above all, 
 in his Correspondence, more especially in the Letters written 
 from the Wartburg; and those in which he uncurtains the dark- 
 ness, doubt and despondency by which his stormy nature was so 
 often haunted and perturbed. Luther the REFORMER is, after 
 all, but the outward and visible index to the inward and invisible 
 characteristics of Luther the MAN ; yet is the connexion between 
 both at once interesting and profoundly instructive. And if, in 
 the open light of history, we are struck with the almost miracu- 
 lous consequences which a lonely monk, from the depths of an 
 Augustinian convent, put in motion ; and if, while we yet experi- 
 ence the thrill of that scriptural blow with which he smote the 
 " baseless fabric" of papal superstition ; not le^s are we affected 
 to perceive, how wonderfully and wisely the trials and experiences 
 of his inner nature were providentially overruled, and wrought 
 into experimental connexion with those gigantic achievements 
 which have made the name of Martin Luther immortal. Indeed, 
 to those who love to enter the secrecies of the human spirit, and 
 advance even unto the very centre of moral consciousness, the Ger- 
 man monk, as he appears behind the scene of public life, beyond 
 most men is an attraction. At one time we discover him to be all 
 elate, high- wrought, and far-soaring, mounting upward and 
 heavenward in the golden light of hope and joy ; at another, he 
 wails and weeps from the very dust of depression and anguish, 
 uttering either truths of self-exposure, which startle you like 
 thunder-claps heard at midnight ; or else, sighing forth his rest- 
 less mind with broken murmers, faint and mournful as the cadence 
 of some distant sen. He dipped his pen at all times in the heart- 
 blood of sincerity ; and wrote HIMSELF out in a genuine copy, 
 without seeming, for one instant, to care what might be concluded 
 touching the original ! In this respect, perhaps, no man has ever 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST EDITION. XXV11 
 
 unveiled himself with more truthful audacity, than he has done : 
 and thus, in his correspondence and confessions, we have a reve- 
 lation of the " hidden man of the heart" unshrouded to the very 
 core ; and are invited to look into the surging depths of a spirit, 
 adown which the deep eye of Dante would have loved to gaze. 
 * * * * * 
 
 The author will now take his leave of the reader, and humbly 
 commit this volume to the protecting love and guidance of that 
 high BEING, " from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and 
 all just works, do proceed." Whatever in this volume is in har- 
 mony with His word, may He condescend to bless it; whatever 
 is not so, may He graciously overrule; and pardon the sin of the 
 writer. '" Satis me vixisse arbitrabor, et officium hominis im- 
 plesse, si labor meus aliquos homines, ab erroribus liberates ad 
 iter cseleste direxerit." Lactantius. 
 
 That he is indifferent as to the critical reception which this 
 volume may have, would be ludicrous hypocrisy for him to assert. 
 It has caused the author some little reading, study, and reflec- 
 tion; and he will be more than thankful, if, as this work haply 
 winds its way through the world, it may here and there please a 
 good man, attract a wise, or gratify a tasteful one. With all its 
 faults, he hopes and believes it contains truths neither uninterest- 
 ing to the mere reader of poetry, and perchance, not despicable 
 in the eyes of those who love to retire at times to the hidden sanc- 
 tuaries of their own hearts, and ponder on things beyond the 
 grave. For the imperfections of the work he cannot be too 
 humble ; but for the CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLES which it attempts to 
 embody, he neither has, nor desires to have, any apology. They 
 are in consonance with the Articles, Homilies, and Creed of his own 
 venerated church; they are those for winch sainted martyrs have 
 burnt; and which ever have, and ever will, constitute the great 
 MORAL BULWARK of this land ; and which (above all) he con- 
 scientiously believes to be in full accordance with the infallible 
 Word of God. 
 
 GLASGOW, 1842. 
 
SCHEME. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 CHRIST, THE CENTRE AND CIRCUMFERENCE OF TRUTH, . 1 
 
 THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH, 9 
 
 MAN'S NEED AND GOD'S SUPPLY, 20 
 
 THE DIVINE PROLOGUE, 25 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS, 36 
 
 CHILDHOOD, 51 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY, 60 
 
 MAN'S RELIGION, 62 
 
 How THE DAY-STAR RISES IN THE HEART OF FAITH, . 67 
 
 GOD'S AMBASSADORS, 69 
 
 THE METROPOLIS OF THE MAN OF SIN, 73 
 
 SATAN'S THEOLOGY, 70 
 
 THE REFORMATION'S DAWN, 79 
 
 ITS MASTER PRINCIPLE, 81 
 
 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN, IN 
 
 (1) THE SUPREMACY, 84 
 
 (2) THE MYSTERY, 86 
 
 (3) THE MORAL ROOT, 96 
 
XXX SCHEME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL, 106 
 
 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS, 114 
 
 THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY, 129 
 
 THE INTERLUDE, 138 
 
 PATHOS, 152 
 
 THE CRISIS, 164 
 
 MENTAL RESURRECTION, 169 
 
 THE AFFECTIONS BY THE TRUTH MADE FREE, . . . 176 
 
 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE, 188 
 
 THE CATECHISM, 199 
 
 CONFLICT WITH THE GOD OF THIS WORLD, .... 203 
 
 THE DESTINIES OF ROME, . 229 
 
 FAREWELL TO TIME, 270 
 
 A POET'S RETROSPECT AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION, . 288 
 
 NOTES, ........... 337 
 
LUTHER. 
 
 'st, tfje Centre anU CCtrcumfcrence of 
 
 FOR ever, and for ever in the Deep 
 
 Of GODHEAD bosom'd, vast and viewless Lord ! 
 
 Thou wert: but, when in mortal flesh array'd, 
 
 Myst'ry and mercy both in Thee combined, 
 
 Eternity in Form of time became 
 
 Apparent; then, the covenant of Peace 
 
 Plann'd in the purpose of God's secret will, 
 
 At length stood forth, embodied and complete ; 
 
 And Thou, O Christ! the Consummation wert, 
 
 The Father's Image, in whose face was seen 
 
 Jehovah's fellow, and the Sinner's friend. 
 
 Who can express Thee, O thou Great PROFOUND 
 Of glory ! where all miracles in one converge, 
 And God Himself in concentration shines 
 For ever ! Thee The FATHER only knows, 
 And truly fathoms. Thee the SPIRIT crowns 
 Sole Prince of Earth, and Paragon of Heaven 
 In Whom the counsels of Salvation reach 
 
2 CHRIST, THE CENTRE AND 
 
 Their glorious summit. Thee bright Angels bend 
 Around, and ever, with enchanted gaze, 
 Centre and strain their intellectual eyes 
 Full on thy wonders ! dazzl'd, aw'd, and dim 
 With Thine excess of all-exceeding love 
 For sin that suffered : stupendous Lord ! 
 Then, how shall man, so erringly begirt 
 AVith clay and darkness, to the heights of Grace 
 Incarnate, lift one clear and cloudless view ? 
 For in the secrets of Thy cross we find 
 That Miracle, where God alone on God 
 Is acting, where the heart Almighty beats 
 With mercy, and the pangs of Calvary prove 
 His attributes in full pulsation met. 
 
 Expression dies, before a Theme like this 
 Completely mastered; but the heart of Faith, 
 Breaks into language with out-bursting love, 
 And, taught by Scripture, thus presumes to cry, 
 " Thou art, O CHRIST ! our intellectual SUN, 
 Thron'd in the firmament of deathless Mind ; 
 The radiant Centre of Almighty love, 
 The mystic YINE of everlasting life, 
 And all the TRINITY in Thee is crown'd 
 By saints and angels, with commingrd praise ! 
 
 Oh ! all we have, and are, or hope to be, 
 Hangs on MESSIAH, as the holy source ; 
 Who shades with mercy that consuming fire, 
 
CIRCUMFERENCE OP TRUTH. 
 
 That else Creation would at once have smit 
 To ashes, when the curse for sin was due. 
 But, in the cross and by the cross perused, 
 How featured with significance sublime 
 And beautiful, this breathing world becomes! 
 Creation, by the plastic charm of faith 
 Transmuted, like a boundless temple stands, 
 Where all is eloquent of Christ THE LORD. 
 Lo ! the broad earth a solemn area seems, 
 And the arch'd sky a bended ceiling grows, 
 Whose lamps are planets in their burning shrines; 
 Wonder is priestess; and the mingled choirs, 
 The organ music roll'd from waves and winds, 
 While the deep worship is the unconscious swell 
 Of Nature, when her blent hosannas rise 
 To bless the Architect, and Source of all. 
 
 And say, what merit must The BLOOD express, 
 That guilt from God in vindication hides? 
 Oft in the night, when musing Thought awakes, 
 And well remembers all the world has been; 
 How Sin hath never yet a sabbath kept, 
 From the first pulse in man's apostate mind, 
 To the last throb in Treason's bosom now, 
 Well may the heart, with big emotion charged, 
 Empty itself in adoration's tears : 
 And, mind devout, with aw'd amazement, think 
 How infinite must Calvary's pleadings be, 
 That soften judgment, and sustain a world! 
 
CHRIST, THE CENTRE AND 
 
 Thus, every mercy our creation holds, 
 Baptiz'd in merit, bears EMMANUEL'S name; 
 And, through His rent and riven side descends, 
 Reaches all hearts, and radiates all homes 
 With some reflection! Therefore, in the Cross 
 We glory; all our creed round That revolves; 
 For there, to heights of unimagin'd grace 
 God's COVENANT the wond'ring mind attracts 
 And welcomes; till the overwrought heart succumbs 
 In mute religion, at their mystic base: 
 And therefore, while in nature God we greet, 
 And in the wrappings of this outer world 
 His Garments witness, that from sense infold 
 A SPLENDOUR INFINITE, a felt UNSEEN, 
 Yet, not o'er these the heart's most epic strain 
 Lift we of lauding rapture. Though the Sun 
 Burn like a sacrament of living beams, 
 Filling our eyes with reverential light 
 To watch him; though the Moon's poetic brow 
 Be lovely, calm'd with most celestial grace, 
 And yonder meek and melancholy Stars 
 Thrill like the pathos of eternity 
 Our pensive bosom, not in these we boast, 
 Though beautiful; nor in the sacred Deep 
 That chants his lone and everlasting hymn 
 Of waters, like the psalmody of waves 
 In worship; nor in all the gorgeous Things 
 That Nature in her granaries of life 
 Concentres, can the God-taught spirit trace 
 
CIRCUMFERENCE OF TRUTH. O 
 
 Matter for largest triumph. Nor can Mind 
 
 Such wonder claim, as that GREAT SCENE demands 
 
 When once from Zion, with retorted blaze 
 
 Full on Himself did God HIMSELF reflect 
 
 His glory; there, in awful zenith seen, 
 
 When burst thy heart, EMMANUEL ! into blood 
 
 For Sin, and back the forfeit Heaven regained ; 
 
 While thoughts that tune eternity with praise 
 
 Rose into life, and with new radiance clad 
 
 The Mind of angels* by their bright display. 
 
 Thus, " God forbid !" the rapt apostle cries, 
 In aught we glory, but the Cross sublime; 
 Which, planted in this wilderness of worlds, 
 Hath bloom'd with second paradise to man, 
 Unfading, hung with fruitage, ripe from Heaven. 
 And think ! (unless the terror of that thought 
 Palsy thy mind, and stop thine intellectual pulse 
 From beating,) think what Man and Earth had been 
 If never from EMMANUEL'S veins had rollM 
 The tide of merit, our atonement drew ! 
 What but a curse, a prison, and a pang 
 Had reason, life, and apprehension proved? 
 Amid the howlings of the Law unkept 
 Encompassed ever, like incarnate Hells 
 Men would have liv'd, have wept, blasphem'd, and died! 
 Then, why not, Priests of sentiment and song, 
 
 * Ephesians iii. 10. 
 
6 CHRIST, THE CENTRE AND 
 
 Yourselves baptiz'd, baptize your pages too? 
 Oh ! let the Cross your admiration deck 
 With solemn beauty, when o'er Nature's types, 
 Her hues and scenes, your mantling fervours rise : 
 For all creation is with CHRIST inlaid. 
 And ye, who down th' abyss of mind delight 
 To plunge your glances, lo! the CHRIST is there; 
 Reason is but a ray from HIM deriv'd, 
 That sparkles only with the light He makes. 
 Monarchs that rule! remember, lawless Will, 
 But for His pangs, would Rank and Order crush ; 
 And ye, who legislate for Church, or Crown, 
 From the deep science of salvation draw 
 Canons of truth, by creed Almighty sign'd; 
 For there, both Law and Love together meet 
 Their mingl'd answer in the Son of God. 
 Or ye, who in domestic bowers enjoy 
 Heaven's fairest miniature, a virtuous home, 
 'Tis from the homeless MAN of GRIEF ye draw 
 The sweets of gladness, when the hearth-sides glow. 
 And Christian ! what art thou, but Christ in man, 
 By creed and conduct, character and life 
 Envoi v'd, and still envolving? Thou in Him, 
 And He in thee, thy life but echoes His; 
 Thy foremost graces are but falling gleams 
 Directly from His perfect glory cast. 
 But all thou art can faith alone depict : 
 Experience only is description here, 
 And that, internal : for the life of truth 
 
CIRCUMFERENCE OF TRUTH. 
 
 Is learn'd by feeling, and by love acquired : 
 Mere language only is a dead pretence, 
 Aping the life which love alone can reach, 
 Or, e'er embody. But, if thus the life 
 Of faith imperfect, far beyond the soar 
 Of speech, to altitudes of secret awe 
 Itself exalteth, who, by climbing words, 
 The Lord of Being, in His life of faith 
 Presumes to follow? There all language ends, 
 As tenses in eternity are lost! 
 
 But this, enough for sinful man to know, 
 In CHRIST, the sum and substance of all Truths 
 Are met, and manifest; in Him, full-orb'd 
 Religion ev'ry saving virtue finds; 
 For there alone the heart of God unveils 
 Its vast expression: in the Face Divine 
 Of HIM, (the arch ELECT, before all worlds 
 In secrecy of Love divine embrac'd) 
 In Christ, the counterpart of Godhead, shines 
 That moral radiance which Himself repeats 
 By humanized reflection. There alone 
 The fallen spirit, with an eye unfilm'd 
 By grace, from sin and sensual darkness freed, 
 The will and purpose, pardon, love and peace 
 From God to man adoringly may find. 
 All other media which inventive Pride 
 Presumes to fashion, are but barren dreams: 
 Man's Deity is only dust refin'd, 
 
CHRIST, THE CENTRE, ETC. 
 
 Himself re-cast in some ethereal mould, 
 
 A finite into Infinite enlarg'd; 
 
 And this Dilation for a God mistook! 
 
 But Thou! EMMANUEL! art the Way we come, 
 
 The Truth we know, the endless Life secur'd, 
 
 The all in all of God to us reveal'd, 
 
 And us to Him restored! Creation's book 
 
 Lies blotted o'er with sin's perplexing stain, 
 
 And no erasure can Thy name detect, 
 
 In full divinity of sound and sense 
 
 Conspicuous, or complete. And what can Law, 
 
 That dreadful paraphrase of Justice, speak 
 
 To lawless Guilt, but condemnation dire? 
 
 And how can Reason in her light resolve 
 
 That problem, deep as God, and dark as guilt, 
 
 How sin is punish'd and the sinner spar'd, 
 
 When falls the sabre of celestial Wrath, 
 
 And in one flash both Heaven and Hell illumes? 
 
 Or, say, can conscience, whose rebuking voice 
 
 A jealous echo of the jealous God 
 
 For aye reverberates the soul within, 
 
 Can this Alarmist, to the shrinking gaze 
 
 Of Guilt the trembler ! Mercy's plan unfold ? 
 
 Ah! no: in CHRIST alone we Godhead find: 
 
 In CHRIST alone His character evolves : 
 
 On Calv'ry's hill God's attributes were thron'd ; 
 
 JEHOVAH there in coronation shin'd! 
 
Jttpstical 33o&B of 
 
 THROUGHOUT the universe of God there reigns 
 A ruling harmony of Life, and Law; 
 And thus all Worlds, by secret link allied, 
 Together one melodious System make, 
 Wherein each Orb a fated portion fills 
 In due relation to the boundless Whole. 
 But in this poetry, and plan of worlds, 
 (Where all is music to the moral ear) 
 Our own as Epic, must by faith be hailed, 
 Whereon alighted, twice nine hundred years ago, 
 The Filial WORD, in human Flesh array d. 
 Yet, if our Earth redeem'd God's epic form, 
 Say, how can mortals, by corruption blind 
 # * * * * * 
 
 That mighty Poem into words translate! 
 Or, who the meanings of a page unfold, 
 For nought but myst'ry doth the Church enshrine ! 
 From the last breath that play'd on Stephen's lip, 
 Adown the rolling ages, even till now, 
 Through sufferings dire, through persecution dread, 
 Through blood and havoc, through disastrous wrong, 
 And burning martyrdoms, her way has been. 
 
10 THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 And who that way, with love and watching Heaven 
 
 Can reconcile, and keep cold reason down? 
 
 But here, let silence be Religion's soul ; 
 
 And may this truth august our faith o'erawe, 
 
 That God in time, eternity reflects, 
 
 And on the mirror of the Church's life 
 
 Doth glass the features of a sovereign WILL, 
 
 Secret, and not to faculties create 
 
 In flesh, or spirit, e'er to be reduced. 
 
 But still we rest not; and our Reason longs 
 
 Madly to question what no finite mind 
 
 On earth can answer, when our musing eye 
 
 Roves o'er the moral waste the Church hath been, 
 
 And dares to criticise what God hath done 
 
 Or Christ permitted, in this world of ours ! 
 
 For what, but good and evil, strangely mix'd, 
 
 Seems the dark mystery of the Church's doom ? 
 
 Here saint and sinner, grace and nature blend; 
 
 Here dust and Deity in clash appear, 
 
 Angels and Fiends for blood-earn'd souls combine ; 
 
 All Passions, Principles, and Powers remote, 
 
 (From the high daring of celestial hearts 
 
 To the low horrors of consummate guilt,) 
 
 All strive with each, and each with all conflicts. 
 
 And, who can wind his labyrinthine way 
 
 Through shades of providence, like these profound ? 
 
 We see in part: but when perfection dawns, 
 
 Both part and whole shall then Thy name uplift 
 
 Almighty ! then the choir of chanting Worlds 
 
THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 11 
 
 Around Salvation, one stupendous tide 
 Of deepening rapture shall for ever roll, 
 And God his Own great Vindication be. 
 
 But, here we lisp the alphabet of grace 
 Alone, and scarcely that at times pronounce. 
 Infants of time, we yet have much to learn, 
 And more to suffer, ere we find resolv'd 
 The paradox of wrong our Church endures. 
 If to our pang the purpose we could link, 
 Patience might sing, where now vexation sighs, 
 And hail The Trinity behind our tears 
 In wisdom perfect; but the Vision tarries yet! 
 Between God's purpose and our pang there lies 
 An Infinite, where baffled Reason, blind 
 With gazing, would in vain some landmark see. 
 But grief, when sanctified, is God to man 
 Himself imparting, for some end concealed 
 Deep in the core of His eternal Plans. 
 Here may we rest: beyond we cannot rise; 
 Or, on the infinite Unknown we dash 
 The mind to madness, and our faith to fears. 
 Perchance our World to higher Being proves 
 A Platform, where the Truths of Heaven enact 
 Their natures, and to angels wisdom show ? 
 Or, Hearts on earth are moral Schools to Heaven, 
 And Pangs below are Preachers to the skies, 
 And glory shines around each sainted tear 
 That faith or feeling, in our warfare sheds? 
 
12 THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 Perfect through suffering! Such EMMANUEL was. 
 And, can the Members of that mystic HEAD 
 Refuse to echo, what their Master felt? 
 A suffering Image must the church become, 
 If with her archetypal Lord complete 
 Her oneness prove; and what in pangs the HEAD 
 Endur'd, each Member must on earth repeat 
 By thrilling counterpart, in truth and tone, 
 To all HE suffer d. Nor, in Heaven forgot, 
 Though there unfelt, MESSIAH'S woes remain; 
 Still through His splendour point the piercing Nails; 
 There in His glory yet the Gash is seen; 
 E'en on the Throne, the sacramental LAMB 
 Types, to eternity, the Manhood slain! 
 And like her Bridegroom, must the Bride elect 
 From suff ring deep to endless glory climb. 
 
 We see in part, but suffer in the whole; 
 There lies the myst'ry! there the Flesh complains, 
 Hurt feeling staggers, and the heart recoils. 
 Meanwhile, in vain would Souls their doom avoid, 
 Or mould, or master; each in turn must weep, 
 Writhe on some rack, or drink their cup of wo 
 Down to the dregs if such their God present. 
 All have their pangs, their penalties, and woes, 
 Some thorn to fester in their Spirit's frame, 
 Or fret the Mind to feebleness, or fear 
 Unholy. But the COMFORTER abides; 
 And while to Sense the Church an orphan seems, 
 
THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 13 
 
 The FATHER pities, and his children find 
 A secret pasture in the promise left, 
 Though all look herbless, to the eye of men, 
 Carnal, or clouded. Nor will more be felt 
 Than Wisdom, for some destined rank above, 
 Apportions; cross and crown related are; 
 The one is suffer'd, as the other shap'd, 
 Responsively. And as the artist's hand 
 Plastic with genius, to the picture gives 
 Line after line, touch on touch repeats, 
 Till colours image what his mind contains 
 Of beauty; so in faith, Experience feels 
 Pang after pang, till God at length transcribes 
 That viewless copy of celestial life 
 His purpose imag'd, ere our souls were born. 
 Or even, as the skill'd refiner bends 
 O'er the fus'd metal, in the furnace laid, 
 And heaps new fire, till back its molten face 
 His own returneth, by reflection bright; 
 So, in the flame of hot affliction, man 
 By Heaven in myst'ry is awhile retain'd; 
 Till, purg'd of dross, and purified from sin, 
 At last the metal of the heart is clear, 
 And back on Deity, by love reflects 
 The radiant Image that His glory casts. 
 
 We learn by suffering, while by faith we live, 
 And graces brighten as our griefs expand; 
 But where, indeed, between the wo endur'd 
 
14 THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 And height of glory in a heaven to come 
 
 Of being, is the true connection found, 
 
 Baffles our reason, in this cloud of flesh 
 
 Now to unfold. But, this at least we learn, 
 
 The HEAD of manhood was a suffering HEAD, 
 
 And all his members, by their mystic pangs 
 
 But echo back what thy pure bosom felt, 
 
 Eternal ARCHETYPE of life ! and faith, 
 
 Whom all things emblem. Here alone there dawn 
 
 Truths that illumine what might else appear 
 
 Darkness infernal, deep, and black, and dense 
 
 To suffocation. Here some aims profound 
 
 (Whose roots are in eternity's result) 
 
 Arrest the tear, and calm to chasten'd awe 
 
 The sigh'd rebellions of the soul within. 
 
 The good shall suffer ; but if goodness be 
 
 To nature fallen, but the noble part 
 
 Of trial, when by sin-consuming grace 
 
 Seasoned and hallow'd, not for this repine 
 
 The brave adorers of The CRUCIFIED ! 
 
 They glory rather in the racking fires; 
 
 The more of grief, the more of God they have, 
 
 And do (what Seraphim have never done) 
 
 Suffer for Christ! man's pure distinction this! 
 
 His high prerogative, His peerless crown 
 
 Appointed. Devils for themselves endure, 
 
 And angels, quick as sunbeams, glide and go 
 
 At His command, and own Him Liege and Lord; 
 
 But Virtue, by the Church's heart reveal'd, 
 
THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 15 
 
 Mounts to a range sublimer, and excels 
 Beyond the burning Watchers round His throne 
 For, she can suffer; and by sufFring teach 
 Lessons of Godhead, such as angels prize. 
 
 And more than this th' afflicted Church evolves. 
 From Abel's cry to Luther's convent groan, 
 SELF was our ruin; into that, direct 
 From God, creation's first apostate fell ; 
 And out of that alone can Flesh arise, 
 By Will surrender'd, crucified, and slain, 
 And by the sovereignties of WILL SUPREME 
 Master'd, and moulded. Thus the saints are train'd 
 From strength to strength, by educating woes, 
 To loathe that vampire of creation Sin ! 
 With hate celestial, and on God to live; 
 While in that Book, whose promises like stars, 
 Rule in the night, a radiant charm they have 
 O'er all the dim perplexities of doom ; 
 Beaming mild comfort through the .blackest wo 
 That palls a Christian, or the Church portends. 
 
 Glory to grief! when thus for God endur'd; 
 'Tis but the pang a Saviour's bosom shar'd 
 Reduplicate, and by all faith prolong'd. 
 The MAN OF SORROWS forms no men of smiles ; 
 Our Hearts must bathe in His baptismal fire, 
 Or ne'er be whiten'd ; Cross and Crown were His : 
 We grant it, but in order each He took; 
 
16 THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 The first He suffer'd, ere the last He wore. 
 
 And as the Bridegroom, must the Bride be form'd, 
 
 Repeat his Cross, and then reflect his Crown ; 
 
 That Like on earth, in heaven alike may prove 
 
 In grief below in glory, one above ! 
 
 And in eternal Consciousness to come, 
 
 Salvation will be sympathy entire 
 
 Between the Head and Members unity august! 
 
 When CHRIST in each will Self from all absorb, 
 
 And His lov'd Church, like ONE EMMANUEL shine! 
 
 Meanwhile, to us, eternal SPIRIT! grant 
 The wisdom meek, that lives on truth divine, 
 However veiled; a waiting mind impart; 
 And in our weakness show our strength to dwell. 
 Like, as of old, the pensive Mary sat 
 Low at His feet, and listen'd to her LORD, 
 Absorbed and self-renouncing, be our soul 
 Before the Cross in docile reverence bent. 
 For Thou, O CHRIST! amid the fires hast been; 
 And o'er the flames, that on Thy Church advanced, 
 The promise / am with you, till the end of time, 
 Breath'd like the spell of some almighty breeze, 
 And cool'd them into impotence, or calm. 
 No ! never hath the murderous hoof of Hell 
 Trampled the heart from out the Church of heaven; 
 Within her, life, when all seem'd lifeless, glow'd; 
 Within her, grace, when all seem'd graceless, dwelt; 
 Within her, truth, when all seem'd truthless, reign'd; 
 
THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 17 
 
 While ever and anon, amid the gloom 
 Which Priest, and Tyrant, and the Devil made, 
 Star after star in radiant grandeur rose 
 To shame the midnight of the soul away ! 
 But, chief o'er all the galaxy of lights 
 That stud the firmament of Christian fame, 
 Shin'd LUTHER forth, that miracle of men ! 
 The gospel Hero, who with faith sublime 
 Fulmin'd the lightnings of God's flaming Word 
 Full on the towers of superstion's Home, 
 Till, lo! they crumbrd! and his withering flash 
 Yet sears the ruin with victorious play. 
 
 But thou, who o'er the Church a thoughtful mind 
 Haply, in moods of mournful awe hast bent, 
 Revere the Fact, whose deep foundations lie 
 Far in the Infinite, beyond the wings 
 Of Faith, though plum'd with apostolic strength 
 To follow CHRIST HATH GOD WITH MAN CONJOIN'D 
 By union, so unutterably close, 
 Divine, unfathom'd, and for ever firm, 
 That Sun shall wither, all the Stars wax pale, 
 Mountains depart, the Heavens to air dissolve, 
 And the dread Universe itself shall die, 
 But this CONJUNCTION shall unweaken'd stand, 
 When Time is dead, and Nature drops extinct 
 Into her grave eternal, Boundless truth ! 
 That out of Deity, all others dwarfs 
 To less than littleness, beyond compare, 
 c 2 
 
18 THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 All Unions type it; all Connections preach; 
 
 Nature, and Art, and pure affection's ties 
 
 Are fiird with emblems, shadowy, dim, and faint, 
 
 TV exceeding glory of this Bond to tell : 
 
 Wherein, by unity of mystic power, 
 
 Christ and His Church are into ONE transformed 
 
 Colossal PERSON, Spirit, Life, and Frame, 
 
 And Fellowship, and Feeling! Let that Church 
 
 Suffer a pang the SAVIOUR feels it too ! 
 
 Touch but a Member, and you thrill the HEAD 
 
 With shock electric, on His Throne perceiv'd; 
 
 And therefore, Tyrants! when ye wound a hair 
 
 Of God's anointed, up to heaven your wrong 
 
 Ascendeth, and the heart of JESUS strikes ! 
 
 Rays in the sun are not so brightly close, 
 
 Trees to their root are not so firmly knit, 
 
 And streams to fountains not so close allied, 
 
 Body with breath, and both with soul combined 
 
 Together, as the Church and Christ cohere. 
 
 Hence Earth, nor Heaven, nor Hell, that fights with 
 
 each, 
 
 The BRIDEGROOM from His Sainted Bride can tear. 
 Thy MAKER is thy Husband, Church elect! 
 And rich eternity thy radiant dower. 
 And thus we lift the shout, and song of faith 
 Victorious, for the Oneness is so vast 
 Between the Members, and their living HEAD, 
 In vain Creation may be tax'd for types 
 Or teaching shadows, to portray its power. 
 
THE MYSTICAL BODY OF THE CHURCH. 19 
 
 For, soon analogy in light is lost; 
 Upward and Heavenward illustration mounts 
 Till, at the base of GODHEAD* overawed, 
 Faith cannot soar, but folds her duteous wing 
 Dazzl'd and disappears in Deity! 
 
 * See John xvii. 21 23, for this ineffable unity. 
 
's JJertr anir ffiotTs 
 
 E'EN like an Instrument, whose chorded depth 
 
 Enwraps the unheard music, but awaits 
 
 The master-touch of some awaking Hand 
 
 To make it vibrate, did the high-strung World 
 
 Of truth and feeling, for th' impulsive Soul 
 
 In solemn hush abide, beneath whose sway 
 
 The moral harmonies of ransom'd Mind 
 
 In mingling swell of holiness, and love, 
 
 Once more should awaken. LUTHER was that Soul 
 
 Predestined: he, by Grace divinely arm'd, 
 
 From the foul grave of papal sin and gloom 
 
 The buried GOSPEL came to disinter: 
 
 And let us laurel his intrepid brow 
 
 Who faced alone (by all save Heaven unarm'd) 
 
 That priestly Giantess of pamper'd sin, 
 
 Whose throne was blasphemy by Pride upheld, 
 
 That brazen Arbitress, whose sceptre robb'd 
 
 The King Almighty of the soul's domain. 
 
 Even papal ROME! who still her wine-cup drugs 
 
 With damning charms, and deadly spells; and dares 
 
 Within the Heart's pantheon yet to shrine 
 
 Dark Falsehoods, which redeeming Truth bemock, 
 
 Profane the soul, and parody our God. 
 
MAN'S NEED AND GOD'S SUPPLY. 21 
 
 Eternal hallelujahs rise ! and ring 
 That Grace around, which call'd the champion forth, 
 A.nd with Heaven's panoply his spirit clad 
 For combat. With the energies of hell 
 To grapple, with incarnate Fiends to fight 
 Behold him summoned! On that lifted brow 
 Heroic calm indomitably smiles; 
 And in that lion heart each pulse that beats 
 Throbs like an echo to the cheer of heaven ! 
 Behold him! grateful Memory, come, and gaze; 
 See Luther, from eternity decreed, 
 Rise in the majesty of moral force, 
 To heave the World from superstition's grave 
 And bid it look upon the Cross, and live. 
 
 And oh ! what marvels did that Mind achieve 
 Which, in itself, a Reformation form'd! 
 For cent'ries, deep the night of falsehood reign'd, 
 Mildew'd the Soul, and manacled her powers 
 With fett'ring darkness; cloistered Learning pined 
 In cell monastic; Science grew extinct; 
 The Bible moulder'd in scholastic rust; 
 That Fountain, from the Saviour's wounded side 
 For sin once oped, by sealing lies was shut; 
 And, 'stead of that bright Garb, which Mercy wove, 
 Of perfect Righteousness, by JESUS wrought, 
 Spangled with graces, rich as God's own smiles, 
 The filthy rags of ineffectual works 
 Clad the cold skeleton of naked souls; 
 
22 MAN'S NEED AND GOD'S SUPPLY. 
 
 While on his throne of sacerdotal lies, 
 The arch impostor, Satan's rival, sat 
 Self-deified, and ripen'd earth for hell. 
 Then, LUTHER rose ! and Liberty and Light 
 Unbarr'd the soul, and let salvation in. 
 Hark! the dead Scriptures, into life recall'd, 
 Harangue the conscience; lo! the Gospel lives; 
 Swift from the Cross a Roman darkness flies ; 
 Martyrs and Saints, like bafiTd mock'ries sink 
 To nothing, by victorious truth dispersed; 
 O'er fancied merit free redemption reigns; 
 And in the temple of the soul illumed, 
 No mortal Priesthood, with its pomp of lies, 
 And Sacraments of sin, can enter now ; 
 There CHRIST himself in triple Office rules, 
 King, Priest, and Prophet on the SPIRIT'S throne. 
 
 The solitary Monk who shook the World 
 From pagan slumber, when the gospel trump 
 Thunder'd its challenge from his dauntless lip 
 In peals of truth, round hierarchal Rome, 
 Till mitred Pomp, and cowl'd Imposture quail'd, 
 And the fell Priesthood, like a fiend unmask'd 
 And stripp'd of light, fictitiously assumed 
 By some detecting Angel, shrunk dismay'd 
 And shiver'd, in thy vast exposure seen : 
 Thee would I image, thou colossal Mind! 
 For what, though sad humanity's broad taint 
 Of weakness here and there thy soul diseas'd ; 
 

 MAN'S NEED AND GOD's SUPPLY. 23 
 
 Or harshly quick, or too severely loud, 
 
 Some intonations of thy spirit rose. 
 
 Yet, in the greatness of thy glorious work 
 
 Right nobly art thou, like a second Paul, 
 
 Apparent grac'd with apostolic mind; 
 
 Waving that Banner, on whose blood-stain'd fold 
 
 Thy name, EMMANUEL ! at each ruffling blast 
 
 Of conflict, beams with sudden brightness forth ! 
 
 Thee would I vision, and on mem'ry's glass 
 Some traces of thy many-colour'd life 
 In lines of holy miniature, reflect. 
 For, in thy destiny our God we find 
 HIMSELF expounding, in thy truth unveil'd; 
 Upon thy mind, as some prophetic map, 
 Almighty Love mysteriously engrav'd 
 An outline wondrous of thy work decreed ; 
 Thy moral Self a reformation seems ; 
 And in each phasis which thy soul presents, 
 An imag'd counterpart of all we trace 
 Hereafter, in the world's vast scene evolv'd. 
 And therefore, Hero of a hundred fights 
 Celestial ! morning Star of JESUS ! rise, 
 Rise in full radiance ; through the cloud of time 
 Dart the rich beam of evangelic Day, 
 And cause the Church's heart to glow with thee. 
 
 But yet, how low, to Reason's carnal eye 
 That measures all things by the scale of sense, 
 
24 MAN'S NEED AND GOD'S SUPPLY. 
 
 The Means appointed for the End pursued! 
 How strangely ^mall those intermitting ways 
 By which, to great results, God's wisdom moves! 
 Yet, once a manger did th' Almighty hold, 
 When first Messiah's human life-pulse beat 
 For our behoof. And were not They, who hurl'd 
 Philosophy from off her Babel throne 
 To speechless ruin; and our rescu'd souls 
 To the rich Fountain of celestial Blood 
 Directed, were not they, the peerless TWELVE, 
 Whose words like arrows pierc'd the heart of Hell 
 With fire and fearlessness, the low and weak, 
 Unlearn'd of man, but learn'd in much of God ? 
 E'en so, from out a shepherd's mountain-hut 
 Far in the wilds of Alpine bleakness hid, 
 The Swiss apostle ran his high career; 
 And he, who with the sun-like mind compar'd 
 That LUTHER in his flaming boldness show'd, 
 Soft as the moon in mellow radiance seem'd, 
 The mild MELANCTHON ! from a clanging home, 
 A martial workshop, dates his lowly birth. 
 And Thou! the Reformation's mental spring, 
 The Bible's lov'd redeemer from the cell 
 Where monkish falsehood barr'd its glory in, 
 Not from the Loins which heraldry admires 
 Didst thou proceed; of poor but pious blood 
 Wert thou; a simple miner call'd thee son. 
 
Dtfrine 
 
 WHEN GOD to Matter, gave the fiat, BE! 
 E'en like an echo, Heaven and Earth arose 
 The instant product of creative "Will, 
 And Will alone. But, when His Hand divine 
 The great IDEA 'fore all ages form'd 
 Concerning Manhood, would in shape express, 
 Lo! in THE GODHEAD consultation moves, 
 The PERSONS think, The ATTRIBUTES confer, 
 And, " Let us make Mm!" is the awful Speech 
 That symbols out to human sense how vast 
 And wond'ring, was the master-piece of Heaven, 
 That imaged forth the Trinity;* when Man 
 Rose on the scene, as lord and light of all ! 
 
 Thus Reason here, may with Religion cry, 
 " Oh ! what a Fabric eloquently deck'd 
 With strength and grace, our regal nature is !"- 
 A mental Structure, for whose living walls 
 Eternity and Truth foundations were. 
 E'en such is Man, when fully bodied forth 
 
 * " Let US make Man in OUR Image, after OUR Likeness."- 
 Gen. i. 26. 
 
 D 
 
26 THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 
 
 By daring energies of mental worth, 
 And virtue. Yes, when such a Man complete, 
 Rounded and finish'd into full-orb'd grace, 
 On earth at length is destined to alight, 
 E'en like some new apocalypse from heaven, 
 Truthful and deep, and most divinely touched 
 In faculty of heart and mind, he shows 
 In each high lineament, the stamp of God ! 
 
 And such was he who burst the jail of thought, 
 Shaking the fetters from the dungeoned Soul 
 Of ages ; and to nighted Faith restored 
 The creed almighty which "the Cross enacts. 
 But, e'en as Luther was through grace confirm'd, 
 And shaped in secret, by the truth applied 
 In the lone temple of his God-taught mind, 
 By man untutor'd, so the Christless world 
 A HAND eternal, and an EYE unseen, 
 By gradual prelude did prepare and guide; 
 That, when the true Regenerator came, 
 A platform might await him; and his Work 
 Fit audience find, to welcome its advance. 
 
 And means there were, successive, calm, and slow, 
 By which, as organs, Providence achieved 
 Each consummation that His will forecast. 
 Time after time, some lone Elijah lifts 
 His wail august, for Liberty and Man; 
 Truth had a voice ; though much unseen remain'd, 
 
THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 2 
 
 Like pearls of beauty in a shell concealed. 
 
 For Dante's Hell of poetry began 
 
 Full on the Pope to flame a fierce revenge, 
 
 For virtue : Petrarch call'd on kings to rise : 
 
 Then, Genius, with her tongue of many tones, 
 
 Learning, and Art, and philosophic Scorn 
 
 At once inspired, their banded forces hurl'd 
 
 On the huge vice the Vatican uprear'd. 
 
 But long ere this, the great Arabian Lie 
 
 Had rippl'd into life the stagnant pool 
 
 Of priesthood : foul and faithless at the core, 
 
 It yet the unity of God preserved ; 
 
 And by the scoff of its sarcastic light, 
 
 Lurid and keen upon the monkish cowl 
 
 Reflected, good and gracious work achieved. 
 
 Remedial truth all falsehood underlies; 
 
 And thus Mahommed's arch imposture did, 
 
 Beyond intent, in this high prologue act 
 
 A part momentous. Next ? from Alpine homes 
 
 The exil'd Gospel sent its mountain cry, 
 
 All Europe thrilling! then, the Schoolmen rose, 
 
 And, wiser than their conscious wisdom knew, 
 
 Embalm'd the verity their words overlaid 
 
 In secret amber, safe from popish tact. 
 
 And thus (so wonderful the links that bind 
 
 Thought into thought, along the chain of time !) 
 
 From LOMBARD'S Heaven-awaken'd breast was 
 
 thrown 
 A burning ember of immortal truth 
 
THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Pure into WicklifFe's; thence, to noble Huss 
 
 It glow'd along to JEROME'S kindred mind, 
 
 And lie to LUTHER did that spark convey! 
 
 And so that Bible spark illumines now 
 
 The hearts of England, with its holy life 
 
 And lustre, though seven hundred years have roll'd 
 
 Their tide of darkness o'er that schoolman's Head, 
 
 Where first 'twas kindled by a ray from Heaven. 
 
 Here are the shades, predictive as profound, 
 That all betoken with precursive truth 
 Some Advent mighty, which an Empire's heart 
 Shall welcome. These are like the Baptist's voice 
 That summons Earth, and bids the way prepare ! 
 But when the Crisis of the world arrives, 
 How doth the HAND almighty, o'er the scene 
 Move unbeheld, and write the- coming doom ! 
 See REUCHLIN by his classic lore inspir'd, 
 And, cry aloud to God's dead Language " live !" 
 And hark ! the Bible, like a Hebrew seer, 
 Again may utter Deity to man : 
 While e'en Erasmus cold and cautious thing ! 
 (That craven Neuter in the cause of Christ) 
 Whose heart was light, but in whose heart no love 
 Could nestle was beyond himself inspir'd, 
 With blasting irony to sear and singe 
 The monk-born vices: thus, that orphan'd youth, 
 To God his genius and his love inscrib'd, 
 And voic'd the Bible with a Latin tongue. 
 
THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 29 
 
 i or dare we to progressive mind alone 
 The conflux strange of tendencies and truths 
 Refer, that just before the battle- voice 
 Of the brave monk around the Popedom huiTd 
 Its dreadless challenge, into force arrived, 
 And action. See! at once a mental blaze 
 Beyond all precedent, by Heaven illumed. 
 And first, that fearful Thing which rules the fate 
 Of battle, thundering over field or deck, 
 With havoc wing'd on its resistless roar, 
 Is now compounded; next, the Magnet conies, 
 With true polarity that ever points, 
 Like sterling principle, to where it tends; 
 And marks old ocean, like a map, with lines 
 Of knowledge, till the wave-toss'd pilgrims roam, 
 And coast all seas, all countries, and all climes, 
 Far as free Commerce wafts them. Nor the least 
 In rank, nor last in the resulting power 
 Thy fall, Byzantium ! Though the Turkish flag 
 Mov'd in fierce triumph o'er thy crumbl'd walls, 
 Yet did the Orient, with a gush of mind 
 Burst from its mounds, and through the arid We.st 
 Pour the rich blood of intellectual life 
 And learning. Next, an unimagined World 
 For ages cover'd with Atlantic gloom, 
 Secret of waters, by stern ocean kept 
 Inviolable, at length her silence brake, 
 And lo! America on Europe smil'd, 
 Shaking the heart of nations with delight. 
 
30 THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Marvel on marvel! each with vaster range 
 Or new excitement, thus to man appealed, 
 Heightened the tone of morals and of mind 
 Awaken'd, rous'd the Soul from monkish sleep, 
 And thrill'd the student in Platonic bower, 
 Or cloistered umbrage, with electric throes 
 Of more than rapture ! for the social frame, 
 From east to west, did vibrate with overwrought 
 Emotion. Seem'd it then as if the Earth 
 Again were heaving with prophetic throbs 
 Sent to precede her soon-descending Lord. 
 So fast did Providence itself expand, 
 Nature evolve, and kindled Genius rise 
 And forward into fields of glory rush ! 
 
 But, in this prologue of preparing means 
 Heaven-moulded, chief and prime of arts immense, 
 See ! PRINTING rise that miracle of Powers ! 
 That bids the PAST become perpetual Now, 
 Gives Reason sway, Imagination shape, 
 To Time a soul, to Thought a substance lends, 
 And with ubiquity, almost divine, 
 For living permanence and local power 
 Each ray of Soul immortality endows. 
 
 Thou great Embalmer of departed mind! 
 Thou dread Magician ! by whose mental charm, 
 A mournful, pale, and solitary man 
 Who pines unheeded, or who thinks unknown, 
 
THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 31 
 
 Long after dust and darkness hide his grave 
 
 Himself can multiply, with magic force 
 
 Beyond the reach of language to explore; 
 
 And the wide Commonwealth of minds may rule 
 
 With sway imperial ! Who can image Thee, 
 
 Whether to Heaven uplifting mind and man, 
 
 Or, Hell- ward both seducing, like a fiend? 
 
 Boundless in each, thine unremember'd sway ! 
 
 Thine was a voice, whose resurrection-blast 
 
 Peal'd through the catacombs where buried Mind 
 
 For cent'ries lay; and lo! with living might 
 
 The Fathers burst their cerements, and breath'd ; 
 
 Dead Intellect from classic tombs came forth 
 
 Quicken'd, and into active substance changed 
 
 By thy vast potency: and, then was felt 
 
 The pith of thought, the marrow of the mind 
 
 Itself transfusing, like a second life 
 
 The old absorbing as with heat divine. 
 
 And since that moment, have not Books become 
 
 Our silent Prophets, intellectual Kings, 
 
 And Hierarchs of human thought 
 
 To vice, or virtue ? Are they not like Shrines 
 
 For truth? Cathedrals, where the chasten'd heart 
 
 Can worship, or in tranquil hours retreat 
 
 To meet the Spirit of the olden time ? 
 
 For there the drama of the world abides 
 
 Yet, in full play, immortally perform'd! 
 
 Still ride the fleets o'er Actium's foughten waves 
 
 Before us; patriots fight and tyrants fall; 
 
32 THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Sparta and Corinth, and the famous Isles 
 That fought for freedom till their blood ran o'er 
 With brave contention, yet convene, and clash 
 Their forces; still the Roman eagle flies 
 In full-wing'd triumph o'er the subject world; 
 Caesar and Pompey yet the earth alarm, 
 Or, drag their chariot with the captive East; 
 Battles are raging, Kingdoms lost, or won, 
 Yea, all the Genius of gone time is there 
 In Books articulate, whose breath is mind. 
 
 And, was not GODHEAD in a work like this, 
 When the World took a most enormous stride 
 Forward at once, to freedom, life, and law? 
 Priestcraft and Falsehood (that terrific pair 
 Who prison'd Truth, and made the Church become 
 A jail where Thought was guillotined, or died,) 
 Trembled, as if that dooming blow was struck 
 Which feird them into nothingness, or names, 
 For ever: God indeed was now at work, 
 Though man, the organ, was alone unveil'd. 
 
 But, why are Books such half almighty Things, 
 Making, or marring, whatsoe'er they touch, 
 With force magnetic ? Whence their wondrous spell i 
 Bethink thee, reader! and the answer conies. 
 The universe itself was once a THOUGHT, 
 A thought divine, in depths Almighty hid; 
 And so, whatever this mortal scene invests . 
 
THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 33 
 
 Of human action, is but plastic thought 
 
 Itself revealing, in some Forms without 
 
 Apparent. What is half these eyes behold 
 
 Of wondrous, beautiful, sublime, or vast, 
 
 But Thought embodied into outer shape, 
 
 And answ'ring symbol? Arches, cities, domes 
 
 And temples, fleets and armies, trades and towns, 
 
 Yea, all the Might and Moral of mankind 
 
 To this significance at length arrives, 
 
 And backward into Thought may be resolved 
 
 By fair reduction. Now, if books be Thought 
 
 By printing cloth'd, and palpably endowed 
 
 For its vocation, whether art or lore, 
 
 Poetic vision, or prosaic truth, 
 
 Kingdoms immense, or individual Souls 
 
 The aim of its predestin'd mission be, 
 
 Forth to its work that printed Thought proceeds; 
 
 And who shall track it, as it rounds the world! 
 
 Who can imagine, when 'tis once abroad, 
 
 (However humble was its natal home) 
 
 The Work it dares, the Wonder it achieves ! 
 
 Black as a Fiend, or like some Angel bright 
 
 That Thought in action may itself approve ; 
 
 For printing, like an omnipresence, gives 
 
 Its power expansion; far and wide it moves, 
 
 Reaches all hearts, a host of minds affects, 
 
 And executes what none, save God, controls ! 
 
 Oh! 'tis enough to harrow breath and blood 
 
 With chilling horror, thus to feel, and know 
 
34 THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 
 
 That when the Thinker, who debauch'd his mind 
 And put damnation into print, for fame, 
 Is cited to the last and long accompt, 
 His Thought is living! like a Demon, still 
 Haunting the world of passion with its power 
 And poison; breathing a perpetual curse, 
 And dropping hemlock into sensual hearts 
 That love the venom which a lie instils; 
 And thus, for ever! not perchance to cease, 
 Till Thought and Thinker shall together stand, 
 Curs'd by their victims, at the bar of God ! 
 
 So great are Books : and, what the Bible then, 
 By printing voic'd, and through all regions sent 
 To do the errand of celestial Love ! 
 Here was the Prologue, in consummate form 
 Develop'd ; here the Prelude looks divine ; 
 That God in words descending into man, 
 And there achieving all its creed affirms 
 Of goodness, that the Bible thus should have 
 An Organ ready for its godlike mouth, 
 Here is the Wisdom that on high overrules, 
 Making all hist'ry but His echo'd will ! 
 
 But now, the World is waiting : thoughtful Heart; 
 In mute expectance, big with wonder beat, 
 Predicting what these powers ministrant mean ; 
 Or, Who, from out the heaven of truth shall come 
 Mankind to marshal, in this pregnant hour? 
 

 THE DIVINE PROLOGUE. 35 
 
 Shall Prince, or Potentate, or armed Power 
 orirt by the squadrons which the world arrays, 
 March in the van of Liberty, and Light? 
 ' E'en by my SPIRIT, saith the LORD OF HOSTS !"- 
 Again that motto to Almighty Ways 
 Becomes embodied, and to life transformed; 
 For, lo! the REFORMATION'S human spring, 
 Unknown, unseen, in cloister'd shade retir'd, 
 [s fram'd and fashion'd by the HAND ETERNE; 
 Sere from the depths of convent gloom, He calls 
 The MAN He loves, the instrument He wields, 
 Ind moulds him for the mighty work decreed. 
 Tor Him (who now a Beacon o'er mankind 
 Flames in the lustre of his far renown) 
 The SPIRIT summons from no royal scene, 
 | From throne, nor palace, nor ancestral hall ; 
 But chooses, (such the fiat of His Grace 
 ' Elective, breathing when and where it will) 
 | A fameless Monk, of poverty and prayer, 
 And leaves the palace for a miner's home. 
 
eDfiaracterfetfcs. 
 
 THE Kings of mind, who govern from their graves, 
 Our thoughts their subjects, and our hearts the 
 
 homes 
 
 Internal, when they first in light emerge, 
 Like new editions of Almighty will, 
 Forth from the secrecy of truth unveil'd 
 Glad tidings bring they, of a Glory meant 
 Yet to awaken, and the world invest 
 Their utterance, large; their meditation, lone; 
 By passion for the INFINITE o'erpower'd, 
 They dart their glances into Things to come ; 
 Intense, beyond the teachings of the soul 
 To reach, or satisfy. But, how received, 
 These new AVATARS, sent on missions high, 
 To herald forth eternity in truth 
 For all who love them? Are loud welcomes rung 
 Greetings of heads and jubilees of hearts, 
 Do these salute them with applausive joy? 
 Alas ! too holy the vocation far 
 Of Truth's high Priests, when first behind the veil 
 Of outward things themselves presume to pass^ 
 And bid us follow, with responsive track 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 37 
 
 Through the rent shroud, their faith hath first undrawn. 
 Time is their justice. When their tombs are reared, 
 Then Wonder dares to consecrate their deeds; 
 Will call them Primates in the church of man, 
 Great Nature's own Episcopate they form, 
 And rule like Metropolitans of mind. 
 
 But, mark the conflict when their voice emerged ! 
 Struggles within, and all without them, rose: 
 Their great Impression was the God unseen 
 But felt, an Infinite through finite glimpsed; 
 But how they gasp'd, in suffocating gloom, 
 When Thoughts in vain articulation sought; 
 Or giant Apprehensions, dim and deep, 
 Scarce ventur'd forth in intellectual shape 
 And bodied meaning! Oft, expression faiFd 
 In form to realize what feeling grasp'd: 
 Language was only a prismatic mean 
 But half refracting, with imperfect ray, 
 The truth essential, which they purely saw 
 Single and one, within the soul contained. 
 But when the Mind could stammer forth its tones, 
 Profound, original, and preaching high 
 On God and Nature, Science, Man, and Soul, 
 No music breath'd they to the world's dull ear! 
 But, harshly strange and dissonant they seem'd, 
 With fruitless paradox, for sense unfit 
 And reason dangerous ! Such the first salute 
 Colossal Genius from the world obtains: 
 
38 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 And such have earth's Regenerators met, 
 
 From God-called Moses to the German monk. 
 
 But if to Morals, and to Man they bring 
 
 Authentic tidings from the Throne of faith 
 
 Divine, yet most disturbing, scowl and scorn, 
 
 Affronting coldness, and condemning fears 
 
 Assail them ever with a shameful wrong, 
 
 From all who love the Ancient, but the New 
 
 Abhor, like treason. Thus the World, self-blind, 
 
 Hath greeted oft, how many a royal Mind 
 
 That rules her now with legislating awe! 
 
 Wisdom itself seems heresy to fools, 
 
 And freedom is but license to the slaves 
 
 Who love the fetters, which their languors fit. 
 
 Their light is darkness, and their being death, 
 
 And rotting silence all the soul admires, 
 
 Admits, or sanctions, in the dormant calm 
 
 By centuries gathered o'er imprisoned Mind. 
 
 E'en like a temple where the owls retreat, 
 
 And the bats lodge within loiig-moulder'd shrines; 
 
 Ope but a window, let a sun-burst in, 
 
 And what a screaming anarchy awakes 
 
 Where falls the light, or sounding footstep comes ! 
 
 So in the temple of deserted Mind, 
 
 Where Sin for ages unmolested breeds, 
 
 Or, lying Errors long repose enjoy; 
 
 If but a day-beam of immortal Truth 
 
 The gloom dissever, or a high-paced Thought, 
 
 Divine as Heaven, original as God, 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 39 
 
 ?n from the skies should suddenly alight, 
 And walk the spirit with a kingly tread 
 Majestic, what a host of wild alarms 
 The Priests of dullness round the Stranger raise, 
 And call it mad, the dead in mind to wake ! 
 
 Here is the doom of Hero, Bard, or King : 
 The cross of hatred first their hearts endure, 
 And then, the crown of homage on their heads, 
 Dying, or dead, at last cold Justice puts! 
 Their crown we witness, has their cross been weighed? 
 We boast their triumphs, have we told their tears? 
 We laud their greatness, have we felt their gloom, 
 Their lonesome watchings, and tlieir weepings long, 
 The fret, the fever, and the wasting pangs 
 Year after year, that wore the heart of Youth 
 To sickness, ere the laurell'd moment came, 
 When Truth and Triumph paid high merit's due? 
 Result the many only dare to prize; 
 But still, the process solemn, stern, and strange, 
 Through stormful agonies, and griefs and glooms 
 By which a Hero to his great result 
 Attaineth, why should this no homage win? 
 Luther was great at threat' ning Worms, we grant; 
 But greater still in solitude and tears, 
 When first he grappled with his own fierce mind, 
 And in the prison of a papal creed 
 Panted, and pray'd for evangelic Day. 
 
40 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 Heroes are martyrs, if their minds be pure 
 And highly temper'd; for The Truth is strange 
 To men who only by their bodies live, 
 And to the pageantries and powers of Sense 
 External tune their sympathies alone; 
 Or, never down themselves presume to plunge 
 A gaze reflective: so when Prophets rise, 
 And utter oracles, from deeps of Life 
 Hidden and heavenly, from the flesh remote, 
 To them they sound like necromantic tones; 
 Eye, ear, and taste, to them make All in All; 
 And though around, within, above them, moves 
 And lives an energizing POWER SUPREME, 
 Whose Yesture is that visible they love, 
 They give no credence, save to Flesh and Forms.- 
 Yet what is Genius, but a mouth for God 
 To speak Himself to Nature, and to Man, 
 And, from the visible and vain of Sense, 
 To guide us to That spiritually vast 
 Which underneath external Semblance lies? 
 There, faith's REALITY alone is found; 
 For all expression which the Outward bears 
 Is but a token of God's Inner truth 
 And purpose. Thus, beneath a typic veil 
 The INFINITE His awful Presence hides, 
 His thought embodies, and reflects His power. 
 
 Still, what is Life, but Imperfection's breath, 
 And human Being, but incarnate fault 
 
I 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS. 41 
 
 E'en at the best, howe'er by Grace refined ? 
 Moses was anger'd; David's honour fell; 
 Paul felt his thorn; and Peter told a lie. 
 Grenius hath faults, and Luther's none o'erveil. 
 A brave Restorer of departed truth, 
 No hollow Semblance, and no heartless Shade 
 Came he on earth to manifest, or preach. 
 Manful, but rugged, to the centre bold, 
 His heart beat fiercely, and his blood ran fire 
 When Right divine, or some disastrous Wrong 
 Challenged his faith, or forced his feeling out 
 In action; then, the Soul's tornado raged, 
 And shook the spirit to its moral roots ! 
 Stormful, and strong, and gusty in his moods, 
 Oft the black whirlwind from some ireful cloud 
 Roused his rent bosom with disturbing rush, 
 And hurl'd Propriety from off its throne 
 Amazed, and master'd ! His was battle-life ; 
 Great-hearted Being! with a lion plunge 
 Full on the foe, with all his living fire 
 Leapt his free soul, magnanimously firm, 
 And, no surrender ! for the Truth must fight 
 And Faith prove conflict, if it stand sincere ! 
 
 Spirits there be, like flowers from heaven that fall, 
 Deck'd with fine beauty, clad with mental bloom 
 Most delicate, but soon Earth's tainted soil 
 Bedims them ; trodden in the dust they lie, 
 otten, faded, or defeatured things, 
 
42 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 Ere yet they open'd their immortal buds 
 
 Of virtue, or their perfect fragrance gave. 
 
 Not such was Luther's : like some burly oak 
 
 Whose boughs wave battle with the tearing winds, 
 
 And bend, but never break, his fighting Heart 
 
 Contended with all mutinies, that came 
 
 From prince, or pope, from circumstance or creed, 
 
 And wrestled with them; or, with Samson force 
 
 Subdued them, or Himself with glorious fall 
 
 Laid prostrate! Sinful oft, his moody ire 
 
 Betray'd him; unadvised words he spake; 
 
 And sometimes, when his fervid heart o'erboil'd, 
 
 Scattered both friend and foe, with burning froth 
 
 And scalding fury! like a soul on fire, 
 
 Intensely real, with his raging glow. 
 
 The gentle wonder'd, and the wise condemned, 
 
 To see him thus by evil lightnings rent, 
 
 And harrowed : but, how soon the tempest died ! 
 
 When the broad sunshine of forgiving love 
 
 Blazed o'er his spirit, like a summer noon 
 
 Settled and bright. Not always hot and harsh 
 
 Did nature find him; playful he could be; 
 
 For oft that smiting earnestness of tone 
 
 That scorn'd the False, and cleaved all fiction through, 
 
 Priestly or papal, with a forcing might 
 
 That flash'd with fierceness, like a sword's descent, 
 
 Melted away; and, like an infant lull'd, 
 
 Pathetic Luther all the poet-life 
 
 Of purest feeling testified, and taught. 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 43 
 
 Witness, ye tears! that dropt o'er Tetzel's bed 
 When reft and dying; and o'er thine that fell, 
 Beloved, and lost, and beauteous Madaline! 
 Oft in the granite of a soil unhewn 
 Full many a flower in secret freshness smiles; 
 And many a stream, where all looks arid blank, 
 Lurks in the Horeb of the heart, unknown : 
 E'en such was Luther; with his rocky front 
 And jagged features, to the foe display'd; 
 But sweet affections, sanctified, and soft, 
 As ever water'd human breast with love, 
 Gush'd into force when Feeling's reign began. 
 
 Luther had faults, but can this feeble Age, 
 When forms heroic, such as olden Life 
 Admired and moulded, are to faith and fact 
 No more; when little-hearted Truths prevail; 
 When Mammon chiefly is the standard used, 
 And God's own world (where angel-wings yet play 
 In secret motion o'er the homes of men) 
 Is made an ENGINE, whose mechanic force 
 A mill may work, a manufacture sway: 
 Oh! can this Age, so derogate and dead, 
 The mighty Passion and majestic Heart 
 Of Luther rightly, and with rev'rence, weigh ? 
 Belief hath vanish'd in the vast UNSEEN ; 
 And Earth, ungodded, to presiding Laws 
 Is given over with a heartless lie, 
 Till scarce their unbelief some dare believe ! 
 But Luther's was a lofty Soul, that felt 
 
44 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 Beyond the body, life's true Secret lay; 
 
 While faith in Goodness, God, and Truth reveal'd, 
 
 Mastered his Being like a mouldering fire; 
 
 And thus, by quick intensity o'ersway'd, 
 
 He often stumbled where the colder stand 
 
 Securely guarded, in their frost enshrined. 
 
 " Luther had faults ! " but, oh ! ye little Minds, 
 Less in your faith, and lesser still in deeds 
 Which make the Hero, or the Man unfold 
 In full-soul'd daring, while the outer life 
 Ye ponder, have ye pierced the core within? 
 A fool can censure where a Prophet weeps, 
 When life is only by its faults and falls 
 Reviewed: but underneath, what noble tears, 
 What pangs remorseful, penitence, and prayers, 
 What struggles mute, what passionate regrets! 
 Deep in the bosom there begins the Fight! 
 And there the battle-scene 'tween Flesh and Faith 
 Unfolds its grandeur. All without appears 
 The moral echo of that inward din, 
 The mere reflection of internal strife 
 In fitful shadows, thrown on human eyes. 
 Yet, these are chiefly what adjudging Sense 
 Accredits ; Character from these is drawn : 
 And so with Luther ; bold as blazing fact, 
 The failings of his outer life advance, 
 To catch the censure of prosaic Eyes, 
 And Hearts that never with emotion rock'd 
 Thomselves, or others. But, the secret Fight 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 45 
 
 internal, when the wild and wasted Heart 
 
 Struggled, and strove, contending with the Fiends 
 
 )f darkness, baffled oft, and bleeding faint, 
 
 But yet, right upward through eclipsing gloom, 
 
 Through storm and danger, and internal wrong, 
 
 From famish'd boyhood e'en to fearless man 
 
 Advancing, with a most unconquer'd will, 
 
 To Heaven and virtue, who hath laurell'd this, 
 
 3r wreath'd the record with a just renown ? 
 
 But, true biography in Heaven is writ, 
 
 A.nd every heart-beat throbs a record There ! 
 
 Tis therefore, by successive falls they rise 
 Step after step, through stormy grief and gloom,. 
 These Benefactors to the boundless mind, 
 Patrons of soul, and true Philanthropists ! 
 Hail to their Glory! Let the Sceptic rave; 
 There's something godlike in the truly great ; 
 They find the lever Archimedes sought, 
 And fix its fulcrum in the soul of Man, 
 And nobly lift it to the destined skies ! 
 Like parts and portions of the primal TRUE, 
 Like Apparitions from a purer world, 
 Like human Echoes of great Nature's heart, 
 Whose beat is holy, fresh from God they come 
 To season Man for virtue, and expound 
 Our vast relations with the INFINITE. 
 Their Words breathe might; oracularly strong, 
 Direct from deep Reality they roll 
 Like Inspirations; or, with soul array'd, 
 
46 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 Their Meanings fall with cannonading force 
 Full on the battlements of ancient Crime, 
 And crush them! so their mental Tones 
 Thunder their music in the ear of Mind 
 For ever; time with them is all attun'd. 
 
 But though these Spirits bear th' almighty stamp| 
 And challenge far beyond what Earth bestows 
 Of homage, yet the World is all unwont 
 Voices from out th' solemn deep of thought, 
 Divine as theirs, to reverence or regard. 
 And Luther, like his fellow heirs in fame, 
 A great minority, a glorious ONE 
 Awhile stood forth, unaided and uncheer'd. 
 But here is Greatness, when by truth possessed, 
 Earth, Sense, and Time, alone to face and feel. 
 And where, save in the armory of Heaven, 
 Found the brave Monk a weapon for his fight? 
 And that was FAITH ! in GOD, in GOOD, and TRUTH, 
 In BEAUTY, WISDOM, and celestial WORTH, 
 Heaven-rooted MORALS, in the deathless MIND, 
 But chief, in DUTY! dread and awful Thing! 
 That upward, 'mong the Attributes eterne 
 Reaches afar, responsibly august, 
 And downward to the Spirit's wailing hell 
 Extendeth, That which holds our being fast ; 
 And binds together with uniting band 
 All facts and feelings, faculties, desires, 
 All that we suffer, fancy, dream or do 
 From Life's first pulse of reason, to the last 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 47 
 
 <V judgment Duty all in one contracts; 
 
 ^o finite deed gives infinite result, 
 
 ^alls the dead Past to resurrection-life, 
 Harangues the guilty, and that hour predicts 
 
 Vhen Mem'ry into one concentered Whole 
 Ijone life shall grasp, and startled Conscience hear 
 1 low the Last Trumpet can our thoughts restore ! 
 
 Faith was the weapon; by it Luther fought, 
 }onquer'd Himself, and then, the World subdued, 
 ind what is THAT, but God by man applied 
 Ibove all Reason, Sense, and Earth, and Sin, 
 n things heroic, heavenly, or sublime? 
 fyom Abel's worship, e'en to Samuel's word 
 'aith was the Magic that all wonders did; 
 \Vhether the pausing Sun its cry obey'd, 
 3r, the Moon hearken'd to its holy spell, 
 3r, Red Sea parted, by its kingly voice 
 Cloven, and balanced like a billowy wall 
 )n either side, for Heaven's anointed Host; 
 Scatheless the Fire, or mute the Lion's mouth 
 Became, whatever in the kingdoms three, 
 )f Nature, Providence, or Grace, was done, 
 i (1 aith was the Doer, at whose potent cry 
 Empires and Thrones, and alien Armies fell, 
 Weakness grew strength, the mortal, half divine! 
 
 And what, without it, were this fallen world 
 Hut Pandemonium with a purer name? 
 (Clothed in hell-fire, come any Shape of sin, 
 
48 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 Take any form, Satanic guile ! but this, 
 The INFIDEL! the fellest blight that falls. 
 No foul elixir of a fiendish Lie 
 So baneful as the Cup, which Unbelief 
 Drains to the bottom with delirious joy! 
 Oh! 'tis a wasteful, with'ring, black disease 
 That, to the vitals of all virtuous thought, 
 And wisdom, sends a paralyzing shock : 
 The very life-blood of all Goodness dies 
 Before it; like a heart-fiend, lo! it rules; 
 All Forms of excellence and feeling die, 
 The Beautiful departs, the Brave expires; 
 Hope hath no heaven, and Fear no hell to face; 
 All high Relations are at once relaxed 
 With God and duty ; Self and Passion rage 
 In the hot furnace of a seething heart 
 Resistless; Men are now but Fiends, with flesh 
 ApparelFd; Lust becomes a brutal flame, 
 And all those moral Harmonies, which make 
 Nature a noble, Man a godlike thing, 
 Have perish'd! Life is then a form of death; 
 The Heart's insolvent ; Mind a bankrupt too ; 
 JEHOVAH in eclipse Himself retires ; 
 Till thus, all ghastliness the Earth appears, 
 Orphan'd of God, a suicidal World ! 
 
 Here was thy Rock, thy Fortress, and thy Rest, 
 A FAITH intense, beyond mutation firm, 
 Whose solid basis was th' ETERNAL HEART, 
 Open in Scripture, by THE SPIRIT read, 
 

 CHARACTERISTICS. 49 
 
 But in the Life of Jesus heard to beat 
 With pulse almighty, in its love for man. 
 Here was thy force, thy secret, and thy sway, 
 Thy Lock of strength, unsever'd and unshorn ; 
 Luther! in this thine earthly comment lies. 
 Here is the Key that all thy soul unlocks, 
 And lets mute Wonder, with exploring gaze 
 Each vast apartment of thy Spirit view. 
 Faith to thy Being sun and shield supplied, 
 Summoned thy Soul, and nerved the noble Heart 
 With zeal untamed to burn, or bleed, or die, 
 But tremble never! Thine was Life indeed 
 That took the TRINITY in all Their truth 
 ?or thy Companions, * lifting earth to heaven 
 . Tor influence ; while around both heart and head 
 Motives and Movements from the world to come 
 Acted for ever, with inspiring force 
 Or sanction. Thus, thy Mission was complete, 
 Thy virtue safe, and thy vocation seal'd. 
 Whether we mark thee, when that rugged face 
 Flash'd in bold triumph o'er the flaming BULL; 
 Or, on thy forehead, where intrepid Thought 
 r droned its high meaning in the Hall of Worms, 
 5 < Admiring Hist'ry fix her spell-bound gaze; 
 Or grateful Conscience, by the gospel led, 
 Bend o'er thy Bible, when the midnight lamp 
 Lighted thy features, as the truths divine 
 
 * I John i. 3. 
 F 
 
50 CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 Rose into life, by thy translating touch 
 Restored, and brightened; still, in each we find 
 FAITH was the moulding Charm, whose secret force 
 Shaped into glory all thy Spirit did. 
 
 And whatsoe'er our rank, degree, or clime, 
 Giant or dwarf in Morals, or in Mind, 
 Tis Faith alone true character can build. 
 Not as we learn, but as we live, we are; 
 And as we live, with things divinely pure, 
 These in their depths, we rightly understand. 
 For faith is rooted in Eternal Life ; 
 And all fair promise in the Tree of man 
 Blossoms from thence, or dies a mocking show 
 Fruitless, and fragile. Give us Faith, O God! 
 Faith in THYSELF, and that will THEE impart; 
 Chaste will life be, and calm its closing hours, 
 To them who have Thee, all their hearts and souls 
 Possessing ever, and by them possessed. 
 In Thee and ~by Thee, thus they live and love, 
 They think, they suffer, what they act, achieve ; 
 Till, lo! in all things are Thy Charms adored; 
 Minutest objects Thine Hand- writing prove, 
 And life becomes one grateful Hymn to Thee! 
 So, when That trump, whose archangelic peal 
 Shall sound the tocsin of Creation's doom, 
 Thunders its challenge, Faith shall then arise, 
 And, firm as JESUS on His Judgment throne, 
 Look on thy face, ETERNITY, and smile ! 
 
 
hand of JESUS on thy heart, O Child ! 
 In love was laid; He watch'd its hidden play, 
 And heard it throbbing with unspoken prayer. 
 r . 'hou fair Inheritor of mortal Flesh, 
 1 yping the kingdom of the Unattain'd ! 
 Prophet! with mighty revelations mute; 
 J'hou Priest! with sacrifice of soul to come; 
 1'hou King! whose monarchy young feeling rules,- 
 Meanings around thee, full of heaven declare 
 Tis like religion when we look on thee. 
 
 The deep heart thrilling with the Unavowed, 
 the spirit darkening with the Undescrib'd, 
 
 d his whole Being rock'd, and urged, or rent 
 Vfith big emotions, beautifully strong 
 - n Mansfield plains, behold ! that destined Boy, 
 i r ith mind's voracity, divinely keen, 
 \11 that is great in earth, or sky, devours, 
 lamest he is, and most intensely fired, 
 ^ ree-hearted, bold, with open forehead graced ; 
 3ude as the wave that roughens in the wind 
 
52 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 New- wakened, headlong, with a burning soul 
 Glassed in those eyes, with mental radiance bright: 
 And yet withal, by sadness mildly touched 
 At being's centre ; musing lone and long, 
 And quiet often, as the placid cloud 
 Cradled at twilight by the lulling West. 
 
 The vernal freshness of Life's dewy morn 
 Bedecks his nature, like a magic bloom, 
 And mantles all things. Now, with dreadless play 
 Opens the heart at Feeling's lightest touch; 
 Time hath not barr'd it with those jealous bolts 
 By Prudence fram'd, that bid the stranger wait 
 And knock for years before he enters in, 
 To find a welcome. All is bold and free, 
 Unguarded, giving forth a quick response 
 To each appliance from the passing Scene; 
 Promptly as flowers to breezes yield their scent, 
 Or boughs their music, to the playing winds 
 That bend them : such is Youth's excited frame, 
 And such (though brief the guiding annals be) 
 Was Luther's. Genius is a glorious ONE; 
 And all her Children like impression bear 
 Of their high Parent. This, in after-life, 
 Back on dim boyhood darts explaining gleams, 
 And proves the Child did prophesy the Man. 
 Luther in germ, may now in heart be seen; 
 For what is manhood, but the child drawn out 
 The mere expansion of that moral seed 
 
CHILDHOOD. 53 
 
 That buds and blossoms into perfect Man, 
 Whose ripen'd germ is Character full-blown? 
 
 And now do Beauty, Grandeur, Form, and Grace, 
 Yea, all the felt significance of Life 
 Inner and deep, begin their blended reign; 
 And so inspire him, that material earth 
 Turns one vast mirror, to envisage mind. 
 But with what boundless, sateless, unsubdued 
 Young appetite, his Spirit now partakes 
 At each fine inlet, all this God-made World 
 Before him like an INSPIRATION spread! 
 E'en like a sail to catch the coming breeze, 
 So Boyhood opens its expectant breast, 
 Panting for beauty, at each conscious pore. 
 And, lo! in all things Youth's poetic faith 
 Beauty perceives ; or by perception makes 
 The beautiful, a virgin Heart admires. 
 Thus, flowers are fancies by the Earth produced; 
 The clouds, emotions of the Tempest born, 
 The arch of heaven, how eloquently high ! 
 A bright Archangel of the burning east 
 The Sun ariseth, on his wings of light 
 How watch'd, and welcomed! then comes Night 
 
 august, 
 
 A dread Magician! with her sibyl stars 
 Attended; and the twilight Sea is made 
 Creation's poet, with his billowy lyre 
 Rolling for ever an unconscious chant, 
 
 F2 
 
54 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 Or broken swell of oceanic hymns ! 
 
 Blood, heart, and brain, the beautiful inhale; 
 
 Matter and Mind a very duel fight 
 
 By sweet contention, in the high-wrought mood 
 
 Of young Entrancement ! Forms without appeal, 
 
 And thoughts within like answ'ring music play; 
 
 Till Life itself a lovely poem seems 
 
 Tender, but touched with most impassioned tones. 
 
 So rapt is Youth, and fervidly entranced 
 
 When Genius fills it with her hallow'd fire, 
 
 And all the open Secret of the world 
 
 Round a lone Heart its earthless magic brings. 
 
 Such the boy, Luther; simple, rough, and rude, 
 A thinking earnestness his brow enthrones 
 Beyond all shrinking. His the cloudless heart; 
 And men may read it with a ready glance : 
 Like glass transparent do his actions show 
 The hidden wheel- work which the heart involves. 
 
 Genius was thine, thou Heaven-commissioned boy! 
 But surely, Sorrow was thy guerdon too. 
 For ne'er doth Greatness in a bosom lodge, 
 But sadness thither like a shade, attends 
 Its true companion. In this faded world 
 Our graves and tears are almost equal now; 
 And e'en at best, light-hearted Youth must bear 
 A burden voiceless, and the pang unbreathed 
 Of many a dark and undevelop'd mood. 
 
CHILDHOOD. 55 
 
 The earth is exile ; and for home we pine 
 How often! when high Visitations come 
 From whence we know not, and the Mind overwhelm. 
 As if some Angel in the flesh immured 
 Our Spirit were, across whose conscious powers 
 The sounds and splendours of ethereal Life, 
 In dim remembrance, were at times renewed. 
 And did not He, whose pure vocation was 
 The Infinite with finite things to join, 
 (By truth and man espousing once again,) 
 Wrestle with thoughts, his gasping Boyhood strove 
 In vain to answer? Felt he oft no thirst, 
 Like a young Tantalus, by mocking bliss 
 Encompassed, melting from the parched mind? 
 And did not Dreams, and Solitude, and Night 
 Profoundly move him, till prophetic Thoughts 
 Boded the future? Rapt in speechless awe, 
 Ponder'd he not on THAT behind the VEIL, 
 When round him (like a belting zone that binds 
 All time, all scene, all circumstance, all change,) 
 Boundless eternity, divinely mute, 
 
 iw its dread coil, unravell'd and unwound ? 
 
 D 
 
 We know not this; but e'en as eagles soar, 
 And sky-ward through the rending storm-cloud mount 
 With plumes unbaffled, Luther's winged Soul 
 Against the blast of circumstance did beat, 
 And struggle upward to his destined Sphere. 
 From want and wo his educated Will 
 
56 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 The glory of its resolution caught; 
 E'en from the cradle tears his Teachers made, 
 And SufFring, hard as adamant, engraved 
 Lessons that left throughout all time their trace 
 Instructive. Thus, amid the True, and Stern, 
 And keen Realities of testing life, 
 The Boy was rounded into full-orb'd Man, 
 And fitted for his function ! Thus, a Soul 
 Predestined, for its prophet-work was train'd, 
 And forin'd heroic; till at length, the World 
 In full apocalypse of all its powers 
 Emerging, shall behold it act, and speak; 
 And like the hammer of a Christian THOR, 
 Down on the curse of Christendom and Man 
 Descend, with most annihilating crash, 
 His tones of thunder and his truths of life ! 
 
 But in the powers auxiliar, which expand 
 The young Reformer, feeling played its part; 
 And that, perchance, beyond all others, pure. 
 His was a Mother, from whose heart of love 
 Sacred and deep, with fine devotion full, 
 As from a Shrine his lisping boyhood took 
 Counsels of grace, oracularly fond. 
 And who can say, how much that Luther show'd 
 In that high work of majesty and mind, 
 That grateful Europe now with homage crowns, 
 Sprang from a look, a warning, or a word, 
 The Mother wielded, when she taught him God? 
 
CHILDHOOD. 57 
 
 And ever thus from mother's love we draw, 
 
 Feelings and Powers which o'er progressive life 
 
 Reign with a subtile, secret, holy spell : 
 
 And Deeds, and Darings which have moved the world, 
 
 Haply were cradled in maternal smiles, 
 
 Or, drew their glory from a Mother's lip ! 
 
 Yet, bleak the lot his boyish prime endured ; 
 And sad indeed, and mercilessly dark 
 The shades of Circumstance around him fell; 
 While yet, no precious dawn of grace appeared 
 To light him onward, through domestic gloom. 
 But on his cheek a blanching terror came, 
 When HE was named, within Whose wreathing arms 
 Of mercy once a folded infant smiled ! 
 Foodless and friendless, oft the fainting Boy, 
 Far from his home, (with none, save God, his guide,) 
 In Magdeburg from house to house was doom'd 
 His meal to beg; and thus by Heaven was schooFd 
 To hard experience, for hereafter framed. 
 " Bread for the love of God!" hark! Luther chants 
 From door to door through Eisenach's winding street, 
 Mix'd with a group, as wan and worn as he, 
 Of students poor. But lo ! as once he lay 
 Beneath the umbrage of a cottage tree, 
 Alone and pensive, while the leaf-shades fell 
 Like soft expressions on his speaking face 
 Of suff 'ring, sad and sweet the hymn he sung ; 
 The very echo of his Soul was there, 
 
58 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 And, like the fragments of a broken heart, 
 His shatter'd feelings trembled into song! 
 But, not in vain the plaintive scholar mourn'd; 
 For on the ear of Ursula they sunk, 
 Those tones of truth, like tears upon some Heart 
 O'erburden'd, dropt from Friendship's genial eye ! 
 Never again shall that pale youth despond 
 In Famine's grasp, through days of pining gloom : 
 At once both Heart and Home their shelter ope, 
 And, like the Shunamite, her all she shares 
 With him, the homeless Boy of sorrow, now. 
 Blessings be on thee ! Cotta's lowly bride 
 And praise immortal, for the feeling Hand 
 Which dealt thy substance; and the angel voice 
 That, rich as dew-fall on a summer eve 
 Descending, when the fev'rish Earth doth pine, 
 Besooth'd the World's great benefactor then! 
 
 And here, by want unchilFd, by care unworn, 
 Bosom'd in calm domestic, LUTHER builds 
 By soft degrees, his intellectual being up. 
 Science, and Art, and Lore, that lovely trine ! 
 Around him throng, and with their blended smiles 
 The budding energies of mind attract 
 Forth into blossoms of expanding force, 
 And freshness; e'en as sunshine tempts 
 The hue of flowers, and harmonies of spring 
 To full expression. Home of halcyon ease ! 
 When the loud roar of his hereafter-life 
 
CHILDHOOD. 59 
 
 Deafen'd the heart, how oft did Luther love 
 
 That Sabbath haven of the soul to haunt 
 
 With memory's eye; and once again recal 
 
 The bliss of tranquil being, when the noise 
 
 Of man's great World with no disturbing sound 
 
 His mind distracted : like the far-off waves 
 
 To one who, pensive at his window dreams, 
 
 When twilight o'er the palpitating breast 
 
 Of Ocean melts in rosy calm away, 
 
 The soften'd echoes of a distant world 
 
 But served to make the hush of home more dear. 
 
 And Music, too, her poetry of sound 
 Evoked: for oft when Evening's pallid veil 
 Curtain'd the clouds with beauty; or, the Moon 
 A mild entrancement from her beam inspired ; 
 Did Luther hymn the golden Hours to rest 
 With deep-toned chants, and melodies divine ; 
 Where Voice and Lute each other's echo seem'd, 
 So richly one their combination grew. 
 When years had flown, and Europe's grateful hand 
 Round Luther's name a wreath of homage twined, 
 And at his feet the heart of Empires bow'd 
 Admiring, Cotta's home, still unforgot, 
 Was outlined in his mindful heart of love 
 Serene as ever; while his Voice proclaim'd, 
 By gallantry and grace at once inspired, 
 There's nothing sweeter than a Woman's soul, 
 When Truth divine erects her temple there! 
 
WHO prays the most will study best; so spake 
 
 In noble answer to official pride, 
 
 The young Reformer, when th' unfolding gates 
 
 Of ERFURTH from his asking eye retired, 
 
 As pale he stood her lettered walls beside 
 
 Intreating entrance there. And now, commenced 
 
 The waking myst'ries of the mind within ! 
 
 Around him more and more dread shadows fell, 
 
 That seem'd reflected from Almighty frowns ; 
 
 While conscience, that pale miniature of God ! 
 
 In outlines faint, the Holiness Supreme 
 
 Began to image. Morning, noon, and night, 
 
 With Soul intense, and Heart of upward gaze, 
 
 How oft did Luther, on the wings of hope, 
 
 Rise out of earth, heaven's tearless home depict, 
 
 And on God's bosom pillow all his cares ! 
 
 And now, when sensitive at ev'ry pore 
 
 His soul lay open to the pregnant beams 
 
 Of Truth eternal, out of Godhead sent ; 
 
 The Mercy-seat of everlasting mind 
 
 Itself, (that true SHECHINAH, where, enthroned 
 
 In mystic radiance, gospel-wisdom speaks 
 
THE UNIVERSITY. 61 
 
 And LOVE DIVINE oracularly dwells,) 
 
 The BIBLE, first on Luther's spirit smiled! 
 
 But little thought he, when the dust- worn shelves 
 
 Were traced, some intellectual food to meet, 
 
 That God in syllables was there enshrined ! 
 
 And scarce could Seraph wave his wings of light 
 
 With ecstasy of more celestial glow, 
 
 Than did the Student with his raptured eyes 
 
 To Heaven upraised, the heart's rich anthem peal 
 
 Of thankful wonder, for his costly boon. 
 
 That moment was the Reformation's seed; 
 
 That Volume then the universe outweigh'd 
 
 In mental preciousness, and moral power! 
 
 For in its pages slept those living germs 
 
 Of principle, from out whose depths have sprung 
 
 The Faith and Freedom of a Christian world ! 
 
JWan's ifalfgton. 
 
 SAY, how can Man be justified by God? 
 
 Thy vaults, eternity, would echo, How? 
 
 But, from THE CROSS, responding grace replies 
 
 To this high question: faith in Christ is Life 
 
 And Love, and Righteousness, completely fit 
 
 To each vast claim of violated Law. 
 
 There, Conscience finds no compromise involved; 
 
 Nor Mercy from the hand of Justice plucks 
 
 The sceptre, and her awful head uncrowns ; 
 
 But there, all Attributes divinely blend 
 
 In one rich centre of consummate Light, 
 
 And God with most benignant glory smiles 
 
 His goodness forth, o'er ransom'd minds, and worlds! 
 
 But he, pale thinker! in portentous gloom, 
 Robed in the rags of papal righteousness, 
 Was shiv'ring yet : around his spirit coil'd 
 The clankless fetters of condemning Law ; 
 And upward, when his Heart to gaze presumed 
 A moment, soon it shrunk, appall'd and dim, 
 From God's dread eye-glance, flaming with the curse, 
 Unquench'd save when the Cross absorbs its fire! 
 
I 
 
 MAN'S RELIGION. 63 
 
 Dark wrestler with the pangs of sin untold, 
 
 Silence and solitude his haunt became; 
 
 Transforming nature, till the soul was typed 
 
 In all he witness'd, of the bleak and wild. 
 
 Down lonely vales, and paths of soundless gloom, 
 
 He loved to meditate, and learn'd to mourn; 
 
 But chief the night-blast, with its hollow yell, 
 
 Rung from the Tempest's riven heart of sound, 
 
 Becharm'd him, when beneath the wat'ry moon 
 
 Late roaming. But the crisis came at last! 
 
 'Twas summer; and with crimson eye of fire 
 
 Full o'er the pine-tree boughs the west'ring Orb 
 
 Sunk flaming; like a furnace glow'd the air 
 
 In breezeless trance, while not a bird- wing moved; 
 
 And the pine-leaves, as by some fixing spell 
 
 Enchanted, like the lids of Slumber hung 
 
 Subdued, and motionless : so deep the hush 
 
 Your very heart-pulse strangely loud appeared; 
 
 When, lo ! the blacken'd cope of heaven divides, 
 
 And flashes, re-divides and with one fold 
 
 Of sheeted flame the firmament' involves. 
 
 Hark ! peal on peal redoubling, and return'd 
 
 With raging echo, till Heaven's arches ring 
 
 And vibrate ; then, in one convulsive burst 
 
 The clouds are clash'd to thunder, and descends 
 
 Down at his feet, in supernat'ral roar, 
 
 A death-bolt. Harmless as the rain-drop fell 
 
 The blasting ruin! Luther, in the shade 
 
 Of that GREAT HAND, Whose hollow hides the church 
 
64 
 
 MAN S RELIGION. 
 
 From storming Earth and Hell, was all secure, 
 Though death glared round him. What a scene was 
 
 there! 
 
 In kneeling agony, with eyes of awe 
 To heaven upturned, as if the Judgment-pomp 
 And equipage of Heaven's almighty King 
 Emerged apparent, Luther throbb'd, and pray'd ; 
 And vow'd his after-life to God alone, 
 If safely rescued from the whelming Storm. 
 So sank the great Apostle, when the Blaze 
 Bright as THE FORM of glory whence it fell, 
 Abash'd him into blindness; and he heard 
 The mournful thunder of Messiah's lip 
 Rebuke him, till his Conscience rock'd, and reel'd ! 
 
 But now, all faithful to his word, sincere 
 In darkness, to the blinding creed he loved, 
 Hark ! on their hinges grind the massive gates 
 Of St. Augustine's cold and cloistered pile, 
 And, in the clang of those reclosing doors 
 The knell of Luther's freedom ! Darkly bound 
 By stale theology's remorseless web 
 Of monkish falsehood, in the deep of night, 
 Fresh from the haunt of social youth he comes, 
 Self-exiled and sincere, in convent gloom 
 Amid the graves of unproductive mind, 
 Where dead religion putrifies to fear, 
 And fear to superstition, there to form 
 His soul to God, and fashion it for Heaven ! 
 

 MAN'S RELIGION. 65 
 
 Yet, mark in this eternal Wisdom's plan : 
 The dungeon'd martyr, on whose haggard limbs 
 The rust-worn chain hath delv'd its branding trace, 
 When free, again beneath the skies to walk 
 Inhaling liberty from each loved breeze 
 That carols round him, chief o'er all can tell 
 How priceless to the heart pure freedom is ! 
 And thus did Luther, by whose dreadless hand 
 Of truth, the fetters from the Mind were fell'd, 
 As captive, first by dark experience learn 
 How^ deep that dungeon of the spirit was, 
 Where Roman witchcraft plunged and plagued man- 
 kind. 
 
 Yes, he, the champion of JEHOVAH'S cause, 
 Whose bold harangues, like Alpine thunder-peals 
 Hereafter shook the Vatican to shame, 
 Himself once crouch'd, in martyrdom of zeal, 
 Beneath the lashes of a monk's stern lip 
 In silence ! wound the clock, and swept the floor, 
 And begg'd, a charter'd mendicant, from house 
 
 To house, the bread of blushless charity ! 
 
 
 
 But did he find the Holiness he sought? 
 Did Peace divine in purity descend 
 Down on his conscience, like the calming Dove? 
 Ah ! no ; in vain the Convent's round of rites, 
 The Fastings dull, the Macerations dire, 
 The Penance long, the midnight Watchings pale, 
 All the mean clockwork of monastic life, 
 
 G2 
 
66 MAN'S RELIGION. 
 
 Wheel within wheel, by superstition turn'd ! 
 From righteous Acts no righteous Nature flows; 
 First form the Nature, then the Acts arise 
 Spontaneous, free, by fertile love produced, 
 Not pleading merit, but proclaiming CHRIST 
 Within, by transcript of His life without. 
 For how in Self can man salvation find, 
 AY hen Self is sin, connatural and corrupt ? 
 But, (like that Bible which his hungry eyes 
 Read oft and oft, with most devouring gaze 
 Of faith, and feeling,) Luther wore the chain 
 That round the soul rank superstition binds. 
 And how the heavings of his Spirit rose 
 In dark reflection, to his pale-worn face! 
 While e'en the whisper of that still Small Voice 
 (Which cowards all, but Christians maketh none,) 
 Beneath the roof of his overarching cell 
 Raged into moral thunder, when the thought 
 Of God in judgment, tore with tort'ring might 
 And mystery, the troubled Mind within ! 
 Thus, like a Spectre, through the cloisters moved 
 With fruitless sigh, and ineffectual groan, 
 Day after day, all spirit-crush'd and worn, 
 The helpless Luther; till the CROSS appear'd: 
 From holy Love then true Repentance sprang; 
 And Faith, like Mary at the feet of CHRIST 
 Attending, hung upon His lips, and lived! 
 
fyt 3iagbtar rises tn tje l^eart of jpaftfi. 
 
 THRICE holy Love! no self-created sound 
 In the cold depth of man's corrupted heart, 
 But rather, a responsive Echo, waked 
 By Love preventing, art thou, when sincere. 
 By God's to man, man's love to God, begins; 
 And Christianity is CHRIST received, 
 The soul possessing, and Himself possess'd. 
 Then thaws the heart, however iced and dead, 
 In tears that glow with gratitude, and God! 
 So LUTHER felt, when Love's almighty voice 
 Becalin'd him; round the Cross he ever read 
 The Page of Heaven; and in that Fountain wash'd 
 His soul to whiteness, which for sin unclosed, 
 In streaming mercy, from the wounded Lord. 
 Light, Peace, and Order round his being throng'd 
 In rich communion; prayer and praise arose, 
 Like native incense from the soul renew'd; 
 And holiness (man's paradise regain'd) 
 No effort now, but second nature seem'd ; 
 Not labour done, but life itself enjoy'd. 
 r et, who can tell as stern-eyed Law retired, 
 the mild Gospel o'er his conscience breathed 
 
68 THE DAY-STAR OF FAITH. 
 
 Like Jesus, when lie sigh'd the breath of peace 
 
 How on his heart the Bible's image grew, 
 
 Till, like a throbbing counterpart, it beat 
 
 In living echoes to the truth it loved ! 
 
 While Doctrines now, that once with scowling front 
 
 Black as the shades that over Sinai hung, 
 
 AppalTd him, soft as Christ's own pity, smiled. 
 
 No more the Penance vile, with venal aim 
 
 To bribe Eternal Justice, now was wrought. 
 
 In CHRIST, her all-in-all stern Conscience found, 
 
 And, sprinkled with his blood, her claim withdrew 
 
 For ever : penal Law its lightning veil'd ; 
 
 And when from sickness, pale and purified 
 
 The convert of the Cross in health arose, 
 
 He clung to JESUS with a clasping soul 
 
 Devoted, fired with Faith's intenser flame, 
 
 And from His wounds saw Earth's atonement flow. 
 
o ! stand the living and the dead between, 
 Fake the rich Censer of Messiah's grace 
 A.nd stop the Plague!" So looks the Office high 
 To him appointed, who the tidings glad 
 Proclaims of Liberty, to Souls condemn'd 
 [n the black dungeon of The Curse to writhe, 
 A.nd weep for ever! Well may dread sublime, 
 Or holy, soften'd o'er with human shades 
 Of feeling, round the youthful Herald steal, 
 When first the embassy of Pardon rolls 
 In strains of heart, from his excited lip, 
 That vibrates, like a chord by music thrill'd, 
 Mastered by young emotion. What a Theme ! 
 God in Flesh, to save that Flesh, array'd, 
 The INFINITE within the finite lodged, 
 The Form ALMIGHTY in the frame all weak, 
 The dread CREATOR on the Cross unveil'd 
 [n bleeding glory ! Heaven, and Earth, and Hell, 
 Eternity and Time, and Sin and Grace, 
 The swelling anthems of the blood-bought Church 
 Circling The Lamb, with coronation-joy; 
 Or, howlings of the lost, in lurid flames 
 
70 GOD'S AMBASSADORS. 
 
 Stretch'd on the rack of self-tormenting ire, 
 These are the elements, combined to throw 
 Around a Preacher that commanding spell 
 Of awe, which makes the earthen Vessel bend, 
 To think it treasures such a peerless trust! 
 
 And, who can dare himself sufficient deem 
 For Work like this, round which seraphic Minds 
 Would travail, in the greatness of their strength, 
 And yet, not scale its altitude divine! 
 Oh, THOU! whose office 'tis THE WORD to bless 
 And quicken, till it breathes a living grace, 
 THEE may we ever prove in presence nigh, 
 As GREAT INSPIRER; whose anointing power 
 Alone can tune the sounding Brass to Heaven's 
 True note, and bid our tinkling Cymbals do 
 In mortal accent, an Immortal work! 
 Whether, beneath some bow'd cathedral's roof 
 Of vastness, while the organ's billowy peals 
 Roll like a sea of melody, and might 
 Down the dim nave, and long-retreating aisles, 
 Thy word is preach'd: or, in some Saxon fane, 
 Where rude simplicities, of ancient mould, 
 Linger in stone's most exquisite decay; 
 Wherever on the tide of human breath, 
 Floats the rich argosy of gospel truth, 
 As Christ appointed, may dependence be 
 The preacher's motto, and the preacher's mode; 
 Dependence meek on that concurring Grace 
 
GOD'S AMBASSADORS. 71 
 
 IIM, The Bible's Author, by whose light 
 oe our Sermons live, and Souls are saved. 
 
 So felt the young reformer, when he rose 
 Within thy square, high-fated Wittemberg! 
 Where the grey walls of St. Augustine's fane 
 Crumble in low decrepitude, and dust; 
 A.nd from his pulpit, piled with simple planks, 
 31ew that loud Trumpet of Salvation's truth, 
 Whoes echoes yet the heart of Empires stir 
 With fine pulsations, free as Luther loved! 
 Bye, cheek, and brow, with eloquence array'd, 
 As though the spirit would incarnate be, 
 )r mind intense would burn its dazzling way 
 Through shading matter like a second Paul 
 Flaming with truth, the fearless Herald pour'd 
 EEimself in language o'er the listening Hearts 
 Around him ! Like a mental torrent ran 
 The rich discourse ; and on that flood of mind 
 Nearer and nearer to THE LAMB'S white Throne 
 The soul was wafted; while for Christ He spake, 
 And hid himself behind The Cross he raised. 
 
 A more than Hercules, to cleanse the Church 
 Where priestly falsehood stabled all its guilt, 
 Through cent'ries dark of domineering crime, 
 So preach'd he then; and in that sermon, gave 
 A noble prelude of the trumpet-blast 
 Predestined from his daring lip to roll 
 
72 GOD'S AMBASSADORS. 
 
 Hereafter; when, from lethargy and lies 
 
 He roused the great High-priest of Hell to man, 
 
 In cruelty and curses, and there came 
 
 An avalanche of everlasting truths 
 
 Down on the Popedom, in those thunderous words 
 
 That crushed it like descending Deity! 
 
&& JWetropoIfe of tfie JWatx of &m. 
 
 To shameless Rome, the capital of Sin, 
 Where Crime in canonized pretension smiled, 
 And Pride and Lust pontifically reign'd, 
 At length great Luther comes. The glare of skies 
 O'er which the mercy of no soothing cloud 
 Had floated, vainly tried his burning frame; 
 For still, o'er Alpine crags, by torrents wild 
 And hoar ravines, within whose haunted depth 
 Plunged the loud stream with everlasting yell, 
 The monk of Wittemberg, with eager step 
 And soul expectant, sought the seven-hilTd Queen 
 Of cities ; till, behold ! in glimm'ring haze 
 The turrets, towers, and giant temple-spires 
 Emerge at length: and, low upon the ground, 
 In kneeling homage, falls her duteous son, 
 To breathe his blessing o'er maternal Rome, 
 Mother and Mistress of the churches all ! 
 But when indeed her pillar'd streets he trod, 
 And on the ruins, eloquently vast, 
 Around him in sublime confusion piled, 
 Gazed with devotion, what a gushing sense 
 Of ancient glory through his being swept ! 
 
74 THE METROPOLIS OF THE MAN OF STN. 
 
 The past in lowering resurrection rose, 
 Bright from the tomb of ages; while the air 
 That Peter breathed, and Paul himself inhaled, 
 Play'd round his temples, like a breeze from heaven 
 New-wafted! Rome and rapture were combined; 
 And Luther in one lofty dream of soul 
 Enchanted stood, and drank the glorious scene; 
 As if Religion from the very stones 
 Was preaching, where Apostles once had trod, 
 And over which the martyr's flame of death 
 Gleam'd in dread radiance, like a glory there ! 
 
 But soon the bandage of imposture fell; 
 And then, (e'en like the Arch-fiend's mystic pomp, 
 Summon'd before EMMANUEL'S heaven-bright gaze,) 
 So vanish'd into vile and viewless air 
 Thy pageantries, thou Babylon of guilt ! 
 Thou scarlet Monster, with the costly blood 
 Of God's elected, drunken and bedew'd ! 
 When plain revealed, in all thy hideous truth 
 He found thee, but a leprous church of lies, 
 By ages putrified, in papal form. 
 
 Oh, grace superb, and wonderful as deep, 
 That Rome and Luther should confronted be ! 
 And there, in Superstition's heart, one text 
 Almighty, like a thunderbolt of truth 
 Down from the throne of revelation hurl'd, 
 Should raise him, while he crouch'd in dismal faith, 
 
THE METROPOLIS OF THE MAN OF SIN. 75 
 
 Deluded ! Thus the Champion for his cause 
 Was meeten'd; thus, from Rome herself he drew 
 Weapons of might, whereby her powers would fall. 
 So, swift recoiling from his task abhorred, 
 Uprose the brave Reformer! free and firm 
 For ever: "BY HIS FAITH THE JUST SHALL LIVE!" 
 Thus roird the truth from Inspiration's lip : 
 Religion, then, and Luther's mind, arose 
 Erect ; upon the rock of faith alone, 
 Together did they face the frowning Hell, 
 And bid our Spirit, like her God, be free ! 
 
Sbatan's 
 
 " Lo! at yon gate" (the Mercuries of Sin 
 
 Are crying) " stands the awful Grace of God ! " 
 
 And in one moment, like a moral wave, 
 
 Heaves far and wide the town's excited Heart; 
 
 Council, and nuns, and priests, and monks advance, 
 
 And motley crowds from ev'ry lane and street 
 
 Are rushing, while the booming town-clock peals 
 
 A loud hosannah from its lofty spires, 
 
 And tapers flash, and greeting symbols sound, 
 
 To meet the great PROCESSION. See ! they come, 
 
 In robes how costly ! There, in cushioned pomp, 
 
 The BULL of grace, whereby the Godhead's hands 
 
 Are bound, and His dread thunders must awake 
 
 Or sleep, as priestly conjuration bids! 
 
 For now, before the wooden cross uprear'd, 
 
 Bedeck'd with Leo's blazonry of pride, 
 
 The loud-voiced Tetzel takes his stand profane : 
 
 Prime vender he ! beneath whose venal lip 
 
 Heaven's attributes, as in a mart exposed, 
 
 Are purchased by Indulgence, GOD is SOLD 
 
 IN PARDONS! Sin itself, before conceived 
 
 Or acted, by the Pope's almighty Bull, 
 

 SATAN'S THEOLOGY. 77 
 
 Shall not be damning; whatsoe'er Desire 
 May dream hereafter, all by this high charm 
 Shall be forgiven ! " down this cross there flows 
 A grace like that the Saviour's bleeding Side 
 Dispersed ; but hark ! from deeps of ghastly Wo, 
 Where yelling Spirits clang their chains of fire, 
 Tormented parents, friends, and children, lift 
 Their tongues uncool'd, and cry for needed alms 
 To bring them from that red Abyss of wrath, 
 Where scorch their Souls in purgatorial flames! 
 Let but your MONEY, with its golden clink, 
 Yon chest descend, and, lo ! at once escaped 
 Those dungeon'd Spirits, wing'd by papal grace, 
 Full into Heaven's bright welcome flee ! " 
 
 So cried the curs'd impostor; and the souls 
 Of myriads, by his damning spell of lies, 
 Murder'd ! CHRIST himself, in blacker shame 
 Than once the Cross of Calvary o'erhung, 
 Was openly to mocking Hell exposed ; 
 Eternity a mart of sin became, 
 A papal Auction, where that Grace was sold 
 For filthy lucre, which the costly Blood 
 That warm'd EMMANUEL'S veins alone procured ; 
 And 'gainst the purity of Heaven's high Throne 
 The mud of human blasphemy was hurl'd 
 By Pope, and Priesthood. Seal'd the Bible then ! 
 And sure, if ever down a Seraph's cheek 
 Roll'd the rich tear immortal Feeling sheds, 
 
 H2 
 
 
78 SATAN'S THEOLOGY. 
 
 It trickled now, when thus Religion dared, 
 In words divine God's Heart of gracious love 
 To libel, Christ's own pangs for venal lies 
 To barter, till the Truth of Heaven betray'd, 
 In priestly suffocation sank, and died ! 
 
 But, there is mercy in thy myst'ry lodged, 
 ETERNAL ! Out of darkness cometh light, 
 By Thee evoked; and while the anarch Sin, 
 To mortal judgment, in its depthless gaze, 
 O'er time and circumstance sole Monarch looks 
 Ascendant, all the waves of human Will, 
 In lawless riot though they toss and rage, 
 Within the circle of THY Will supreme 
 Alone are plunging; if they rise or fall, 
 'Tie only as THY helming Word decrees. 
 
^formation's Baton. 
 
 PALE with devotion, wrestling long and lone 
 With God in prayer, behold ! the lion heart 
 Of Luther beats with supernatural pulse ; 
 It throbs with Deity, and great design. 
 Stung to his very soul with piercing shame, 
 Beneath a lie to see Heaven's truth expire, 
 And trampl'd Scripture gasping in the dust 
 Of low venality, and priestly lies, 
 Upon the door of Wittemberg's dark pile 
 He fastened then, with hand divinely firm, 
 Ninety and five of those all-fearless Truths 
 That shook the Popedom, and the World redeemed 
 From charms infernal, to the Cross alone. 
 Faith, Hope, and Love, upon the ROCK of souls 
 Were founded; Grace in gospel freedom rose, 
 From Schools and sophistry at length escaped; 
 And, in the fountain of EMMANUEL'S Blood 
 Both peace and pardon in conjunction flow'd, 
 Free, full, and glorious from the heart of God, 
 Giver and Gift in amnesty combined! 
 And yet, what Eye save His, before whose beam 
 Time, place, and all contingencies retire 
 
80 THE REFORMATION'S DAWN. 
 
 As though they were not, in this daring act 
 
 Of Luther, saw the REFORMATION'S pulse 
 
 Of Life and liberty began to beat? 
 
 Or who, among the crowd that rush'd to read 
 
 In tumult wild, upon the church's gate 
 
 Those Words, that dash'd Indulgences to air, 
 
 The silent thunder of their strength presumed 
 
 Upon thine eve, All-Hallows? Monk, and Priest, 
 
 And Pope, and hoary-headed Falsehood, then 
 
 Were death-struck; in those few fine Truths 
 
 The germs of unexpanded glory slept, 
 
 As in the acorn future navies float. 
 
 And when at night, a lonely cell was sought, 
 
 Could the brave Monk his deed of pregnant might 
 
 Have measured? In the greatness of the act, 
 
 Oh ! was he conscious of th' ALMIGHTY, there ? 
 
Its Blaster 
 
 ONE Truth divine, from deeps of scripture drawn, 
 And by one Heart with burning zeal espoused, 
 Then, bodied forth in full heroic life, 
 What miracles that single Truth achieves, 
 Which rock an empire, or a world restore ! 
 And hence, when pale in his monastic gloom, 
 Alone and pensive, groping after God 
 Through clouds of error, black with Romish guile, 
 At length the tortured Monk, with tears of praise 
 Coneummate pardon by the Cross procured 
 Discover'd, then a peerless TRUTH was found 
 From whence instructed Empires learn to live. 
 And in that Hall, where stood the fearless man 
 Bulwark'd with Principle, beyond all powers 
 By Earth created or by Hell contrived, 
 He grasp'd a Truth, which Heaven s eternal creed 
 Hath canonized, and by the Cross explained, 
 THAT GRACE is GOD, BY GOD ALONE APPLIED; 
 On THIS, Religion all her fabric rears, 
 That else is baseless as the yielding air. 
 
 Hence flow those energies through man and mind, 
 Which mould our being great, or make it good. 
 Here, by the pardon of perfective Grace, 
 
82 ITS MASTER PRINCIPLE. 
 
 The anguish'd memory can alone subdue 
 That dread Gehenna, which our guilt inflames 
 Oft in remembrance; and, from thence derived, 
 Pure emanations spring, and feelings act 
 That feed with moral life the social frame 
 Of Men, and Empires ; for, the HEART is free, 
 And, guarded CONSCIENCE, on the bosom's throne 
 Reigns in the sanctity which Christ hath won. 
 
 'Tis thus, where olden Hearts and Hands had fail'd, 
 And ancient Heroes their protesting voice 
 Lifted in vain, to vindicate THE TRUTH 
 From all aggression, Luther's prowess smote 
 The Roman Beast to ruin nigh to death, 
 And that, with principle. 'Twas here he fought, 
 He grappled with the foe of God, and man. 
 Swift through the dens and dungeons of the mind 
 He pour'd the beam of evangelic Morn ; 
 And where AUTHORITY that mitred Lie ! 
 Bestrode the conscience with infernal sway. 
 He throned The GOSPEL, in the light of GRACE, 
 At once the law, and liberty of souls. 
 But, had he only on a Mob of Saints 
 Shot his keen arrows of sarcastic truth, 
 Dislodged the Virgin, paralyzed the Pope, 
 Or laid the Monk's Augean darkness bare, 
 In/brm regenerate, but with life corrupt 
 The Reformation then had toil'd, and died. 
 But, glory be to HIM whose name we bear ! 
 'Twas grace in principle that Luther taught : 
 

 ITS MASTER PRINCIPLE. 83 
 
 Here is the lever which the World uplifts 
 
 ' A Saviour just, for man unjust hath died!" 
 
 Here is a TRUTH, whose trumpet- voice might preach 
 
 The Pope's religion into airy nought; 
 
 A Truth, which is at once the text of texts, 
 
 Making all scripture music to our souls! 
 
 The Bible read, is GOD himself perused 
 
 In pages lettered with Almighty love, 
 
 When thus proclaiming what the Conscience craves: 
 
 While the rich fountain of EMMANUEL'S Blood, 
 
 (Not barricaded round with priestly walls, 
 
 Nor blent with superstition's blackening tide 
 
 Of " merits,") all its healing Flood of Grace 
 
 Full on the heart, in one vast current pours ! 
 
 He ended thus, where ancient Minds begun; 
 'Gainst outward vice those murder'd Saints appeal'd, 
 And perish'd ! but for Principle Divine, 
 Bravely alone the Monk of Erfurt fought. 
 He struck the root, and then the branches fell ; 
 He purg'd the fountain, then the stream roll'd pure ; 
 The deep foundation down to Hell he shook, 
 And then the Roman Superstition reel'd : 
 From centre to circumf rence, thus the Mind 
 Of Luther reasoned out its lonely way ; 
 Till, lo! at length, by gospel light reveal'd 
 He saw Impostures, in successive form 
 Each after each more staringly corrupt, 
 And in a POPE, The ANTICHRIST foretold 
 By dread prediction, since the Church began. 
 
fit (ffiospri accorbtng to JWan. 
 i. 
 
 Cfje 
 
 " SON of the living God ! The CHRIST, Thou art ! ' 
 
 So spake, by more than mortal wisdom led, 
 
 The bold Apostle, when, through flesh and blood, 
 
 DIVINITY within that Form august 
 
 Of JESUS, shrined in mortal dust, he saw : 
 
 And on the Rock of this confession, (high 
 
 In Godhead rear'd, and deep in Manhood based,) 
 
 Emmanuel built His everlasting Church. 
 
 But how hath Sin, from out the promise made 
 
 To Peter, (in apostleship sublime 
 
 But not supreme, beyond his fellows rank'd,) 
 
 The Keys of power, the Kingdom, and the Laws 
 
 That bind or loose, as papal nods decree, 
 
 Derived! and thus, on earth uprear'd 
 
 A vile dominion, measureless and vain 
 
 As Earth could plan, or cheering Hell applaud. 
 
 Admire we then, let gratitude adore 
 
 The Power divine that hurl'd the POPEDOM down 
 
 From that curs'd height of blasphemy, and crime, 
 
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 85 
 
 Fo which, through ages of gigantic skill 
 By fell gradation, it at length arose, 
 Reigning aloft, stern arbitress of Kings 
 _4.nd Thrones; dispensing Sceptres with a smile, 
 3r else dissolving Kingdoms with a frown ! 
 For Peter's shadow, and the Roman Name 
 7er power and policy together ruled ; 
 Chen the high Past a holy magic breath'd; 
 ind the rich lustre of a world's regard 
 Made ROME the palace of Mankind appear, 
 The true Metropolis of priestly hearts, 
 \. Temple with apostleship instinct, 
 The stones all sacred, and the dust inspired! 
 rims magnified, and with mysterious charms 
 Endow'd, behold, a miracle of pride 
 Erect; Supremacy! thy POPE survey, 
 A Breath of sin on Deity's great Throne. 
 Oh ! never in the luxury of lies 
 Hath Hell more wanton'd; never, in this world, 
 Hath Adulation's most besotted dream 
 A foul pretence so infinitely dared, 
 is then, around some ruffian Pope began ; 
 For palsied Reason to his sceptre bow'd, 
 ind Blasphemy baptized a monster GOD ; 
 Disgust, be mute ! and Horror, speechless stand ! 
 'Tis not in words, though syllabl'd with fire, 
 )r, fang'd with truth's most execrating force, 
 Co paint a Pope infallibly supreme ! 
 Vll Right above, beyond all Law secured, 
 
86 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 In errorless perfection shrined aloft ; 
 
 Of Peter's royalties sole heir and king; 
 
 Of Churches, Judge; of Christendom, the Lord: 
 
 And such an Oracle! that when his lips 
 
 Do condescend some great response to give, 
 
 Virtue is vice, and vice may virtue be, 
 
 Or each be neither, if his nod decide ! 
 
 For Truth and Nature are at once transformed 
 
 By him, the world's embodied FIAT, now. 
 
 E'en more than this ; to heights of sin beyond, 
 
 These climbing blasphemies of folly scaled, 
 
 And from the temple of th J ALMIGHTY took 
 
 The Crown, and from the Hand Eternal pluck'd 
 
 The Sceptre; till from Godhead's self there seem'd 
 
 To pass all glory; and, in pontific shape, 
 
 A mock almighty, was the Pope adored ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Above, beneath, around, where'er we move 
 Or live, an atmosphere of myst'ry floats; 
 For ever baffling, with its gloom unpierced, 
 The pride of Reason's analytic gaze. 
 E'en like that Pillar which, of cloud and fire 
 Contemper'd, to the pilgrim church bestowed 
 A guidance solemn, through untrodden wilds ; 
 So, human knowledge, in. this world forlorn, 
 

 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 87 
 
 In shade and light alternately prevails, 
 Too dark for pride, too shining for despair. 
 And thus, accordant with our state corrupt, 
 From truth to truth, the educated Mind 
 Through shades of awe is humblingly advanced ; 
 While, noble Ignorance, that knows itself, 
 Kneels in the shadow of the Mercy-seat, 
 And prays the heart to piety, and love. 
 
 Yes! all is myst'ry; from that Blaze immense 
 In which pavilioned dwells the VAST UNSEEN, 
 Down to the insect of minutest frame 
 Science is mock'd. Within retreating depths 
 The CAUSE uncaused, above all causes throned, 
 Who can describe ? Yet what religion owns, 
 Plain reason grants, that He is perfect ONE, 
 Pervading all things with His presence whole ; 
 | Unfelt, unform'd, unheard, and unexplain'd, 
 | All Eye, all Ear, all Spirit, and all Power, 
 His centre, Light, and his circumf rence, Love. 
 Yet, what reveals HIM WHO all else reveals, 
 The UNEXPLAINED, who yet explaineth all ? 
 What Sun to systems, God to truth appears; 
 But yet, apart impenetrably shrined, 
 A burning UNAPPROACHABLE remains. 
 
 Then turn to nature, eloquently touch'd 
 With living beauty ; and in sight and sound 
 Teeming with all that holy truth admires. 
 
00 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 There, though the shadow of the primal Curse 
 Dims the soft radiance of a virgin world, 
 Traces of Eden, tracks of angel feet 
 Still haunt creation with a hallowing charm : 
 But myst'ry there, o'er nature's Secret broods, 
 Beyond Philosophy's most daring ken 
 To master; lock'd in mute reserve it lies: 
 Since, what is Essence, how formation acts, 
 Or, life and law reciprocally play, 
 Can reason here mount explanation's throne? 
 Nature herself is thine embodied Will 
 Almighty! There at last the mind has gain'd 
 An ultimatum, that unteaches pride; 
 While Genius, like a second childhood, stands, 
 And, rapt in wonder, to Religion turns, 
 Struck by the truth intelligibly blind. 
 
 And does not Providence our life invest 
 With one horizon of perpetual cloud? 
 But while to man, all paradox and gloom 
 Creation's sad biography may look, 
 Darkness itself is Deity at work, 
 Concenter'd Godhead on his plans employ'd, 
 The TRINITY, in Their tremendous shade, 
 Acting on Earth some vast conception out ! 
 
 But, to thyself, O brave logician ! turn, 
 Thou self-idolater! in dust enshrined, 
 That o'er JEHOVAH thus presumes to wave 
 
I 
 
 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 89 
 
 The treason-banner of rebellious mind. 
 Thou, to thyself a living myst'ry art ; 
 And why? Because, unfathomably bad, 
 And thus, by grace unfathomably heal'd : 
 " Deceitful, vain, and desperately vile 
 All things above, the heart of man is found ; 
 And who can know it? I, THE LORD, alone!" 
 Thus chants the prophet; and severely grand, 
 Round all the regions of created Mind 
 Rolls the dread challenge; mute remain 
 Seraph and Angel, and the star-bright Host, 
 Who, nearest to the fountain-source of Mind, 
 'Mid radiance intellectual, shine and sing, 
 To each and all unsearchably corrupt, 
 (As God himself unsearchably divine,) 
 The heart of nature in the human breast : 
 The two unsearchables are God, and Man! 
 
 Then, turn to Grace, the Trinity expressed 
 In threefold glory, lovingly distinct. 
 There, all is myst'ry, hung with moral gloom. 
 Flight after flight, in vain proud Reason takes, 
 And seeks and soars, and soars and seeks again; 
 Thus, more confounded by the search becomes : 
 Till, all exhausted, like the arkless dove, 
 Back to the shelter of a simple truth 
 The Mind retreats, and learns by faith to live, 
 And love the more, the less it understands 
 
90 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 Of the GREAT SECRET which salvation hides, 
 The now and WHY, in all of*Godhead there. 
 
 And HIM, the paramount of grace reveal'd, 
 The TRUTH INCARNATE, how can words unfold? 
 Or, who to comprehension dares contract 
 The dazzling myst'ry that His PERSON makes? 
 True greatness is to know how small we are; 
 We learn divinity by loving God, 
 And as we love, alone can understand. 
 
 Thus step by step, with analogic rise 
 We come to Thee, thou Consummation dire! 
 O'er myst'ries all stupendously uplift, 
 Begot by Satan, and by sinners bred; 
 E'en that, where Antichrist horrific reigns 
 O'er conscience, reason, and the hood-wink'd sold. 
 Around it twice six hundred Years 
 Have travail'd, in the pride of priestly art ; 
 And now, a very miracle of mind 
 Depraved, of truth corrupt, and power abused, 
 It moulds and masters all whom it beguiles; 
 Compact, complete, symmetrically form'd 
 To fit all Hearts, whatever the sensual frame; 
 Or, oscillate to each exacting move 
 Mental and moral, in our lives transverse; 
 This myst'ry plays the Proteus with mankind. 
 From character it draws responsive tones, 
 
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 91 
 
 From all condition wins a pleased support, 
 In circumstance the very crisis wields, 
 And, of torn conscience takes advantage vile : 
 Virtue and vice alike its Charm obey; 
 Fetter d by chains, that with no clanking fall 
 The ear arrest, or rouse the dormant soul; 
 But still, the Heart they manacle with lies, 
 And bind it down, deluded to the last. 
 
 A Myst'ry, O, thou antichristian curse ! 
 In wisdom wert thou by St. Paul baptiz'd. 
 Not Rome, in pagan darkness vilely sunk, 
 Nor aught that infidels have dared, or done 
 To mock Jehovah, or to murder Christ 
 Again, like thee in veil'd imposture reigns. 
 There, Error shines, in broad and staring blaze, 
 Conspicuous, mark'd, and branded as the bad; 
 The Heart may shun it, and securely keep 
 Both Principle and Purity awake. 
 But here, false Darkness, with a face of Light 
 Deceptively upon thy victim smiles; 
 And, with the aspect of an Angel's love 
 Ruins the spirit with a Demon's guile ! 
 Here lies the danger, lurks the full deceit, 
 Pretension, high as Heaven's meridian truth, 
 Performance, low as Hell's absorbing lie! 
 Religion here, with suicidal hand 
 Herself destroys ; and into death transmutes 
 A living zeal, that else for GOD and souls 
 
92 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 Like inspiration might the world employ. 
 Dilates a Precept, or a Truth contracts, 
 Can mould a Doctrine, or a Creed erect, 
 And round salvation such a dimness cast, 
 That CHRIST is hidden, and the Church alone 
 In sacramental mist at length appears. 
 
 But yet, how raised, how lofty, how refined, 
 Thy vast professions, Romanistic Creed! 
 Not Purity itself, is pure as Thou 
 In strictness, and severity of aim. 
 From the mix'd world, monastically free, 
 The Spirit thou wouldst fain entice; and cast 
 Its Powers in moulds of superhuman faith ; 
 And thus, from foul entanglements of flesh 
 The mind deliver, till, to earthless heights 
 Of dazzling purity at length arrived, 
 The Consummation of the church is reached, 
 Meekness and martyrdom, in one combined. 
 
 The Devil is the parodist of God; 
 And, priestly colours are the paint employ'd 
 To tinge his counterfeits of Truth divine, 
 With holy semblance; and, that flaming zeal 
 For purity, apostate Rome affects, 
 For Him has wrought, infernally sublime ! 
 A heaven in aspect, but a hell in deed, 
 Pollution's self, on Purity's clear throne 
 In veil'd enchantment thus hath ruled, and reign'd, 
 

 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 93 
 
 Deceiving others, and itself deceived. 
 The Roman myst'ry is a mask of Lies, 
 And under it all Curses, and all Crimes, 
 All black and base abominations, hide; 
 While yet, thy countenance, celestial Truth! 
 It borrows; Mercy is the mild pretence, 
 Justice the theme, and Love for God the law, 
 And zeal for Christ, the church's ardent soul 
 That makes Her all the miracle she is ! 
 Satan himself can thus religious seem, 
 And poison Virtue with her very smile. 
 
 Lo! by his spell the TRINITY recedes; 
 And LOVE and LIGHT to cruel darkness turn, 
 Shade upon shade, impenetrably deep, 
 Investing GODHEAD with a vile array 
 Of terrors, forged by sacerdotal guile, 
 And summoned forth as guilt again demands : 
 Where is THE FATHER, in that fiction dread, 
 That ghastly Something, for a God believed, 
 Which Pop'ry to the harrow'd Mind presents ? 
 Or, when the ague of a guilty heart 
 Rages in secret, what Paternal voice, 
 From God in Christ, attractively divine? 
 Then not direct through SON and Spirit looks 
 The Soul repentant, from the pleading eye 
 Of faith, on God reveal'd; but, damning frowns, 
 Blacker than Sinai's legal night express'd, 
 To daunt the sinner, are at once evoked, 
 
94 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 Hiding the Cross with intercepting gloom : 
 
 INFINITE CRUELTY thus God becomes; 
 
 His Throne all blackness, and his Heart begirt 
 
 With fencing saints, that keep poor sinners off 
 
 Till first their Mediatorship is moved, 
 
 And God, persuaded by their prayer, relents ! 
 
 As if, by impulse The Almighty moved, 
 
 Nor in Himself His Own great motive was. 
 
 But, see the climax of corrupted truth, 
 Th' infernal zenith of presuming craft, 
 The last perfection of Tridentine lies, 
 The hideous summit of unhallow'd guile, 
 The INCARNATION, parodied in paste! 
 With priestly melodrame of mutter'd spells, 
 Lo! when the sacerdotal Juggler stands, 
 Beneath whose touch the sacramental HOST 
 To Body, Blood, Divinity, and Soul 
 Themselves transform, created into CHRIST ! 
 EMMANUEL there, consummate and complete, 
 Again must bleed, in Calvary revived ! 
 Oh! horrible, and heartless mock of all 
 Of God in glory, or of man in grace, 
 That HE whose PERSON is the Sum and Soul 
 Of what in time, Eternity shall act, 
 THE GREAT ACHIEVEMENT of Th' Eternal THREE 
 Embodied, should be multiplied, and mock'd! 
 And from that Myst'ry, infinitely shrin'd 
 High o'er the Senses, and mere Reason's grasp, 
 

 TTTE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 95 
 
 Should fall at once to manducated flour, 
 And crumble in the crash of human teeth 
 An eaten Saviour a digested God ! 
 
 And Thou, O SPIRIT ! who alone canst drive 
 From hearts where pantheistic darkness reigns; 
 Or, carnal gods, by sense or reason shaped, 
 Debauch the conscience with disastrous lies, 
 All creeds of sin, and canons of despair; 
 How, like an aping liturgy of Hell, 
 Hath Romish parody presumed to mock 
 The might, and myst'ry of Thy Work august ! 
 And dared, for living Waters, freshly drawn 
 From the deep fountains of eternity 
 And truth, a servile wash to substitute, 
 And by lustration ape the HOLY GHOST ! 
 
 When thus, the life-blood of religion's drainM 
 By this fell vampire, what for man is left 
 But the mere carcass of a ritual MOCK 
 For mindless worship, meaningless and false ? 
 Baptized Religion, but, indeed, a Lie, 
 That plunders all the TRINITY at once 
 By priestly sacrilege, of grace and power. 
 
 Thou dread ALMIGHTY ! may we dare repeat 
 With deep-toned echo, that mysterious Cry 
 Th' apocalyptic Martyrs lift above, 
 And chant " How long shall Truth eternal be 
 
90 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 By juggling Rome travestied, and traduced? 
 How long, O LOVE! unsearchably profound, 
 Shall deicidal Falsehood wear the dress 
 Of Truth perfective, while the CROSS is veil'd ; 
 And HE, whose Merit is creation's shield, 
 The Church's light, and Providence's law, 
 Drops from His Throne, to see anointed dust 
 And sainted villains, canonized and cowl'd, 
 Ascend beyond Him, in their plea for grace !" 
 'Tis thus, the laurels from the Brow of CHRIST, 
 Bleeding with mercy, are insanely pluck'd, 
 And impiously around the head enwreath'd 
 Of ANTICHRIST, for twice six hundred years, 
 That aping Monster, who travesties God, 
 And in the glory of his darkness seems 
 A mimic Satan, on MESSIAH'S throne 1 
 
 III. 
 
 Hoot. 
 
 But whence this power, that paralyzes men 
 To dull machines, for priestly hands to work ? 
 That from the Cross all crucifixion takes, 
 And shuts the fountain in EMMANUEL'S side, 
 Whence gush'd atonement for the World's great sin; 
 Till CHRIST with closed wounds remains, 
 Shorn of those beams, that round His ransom play, 
 And form a MERIT fit for man to plead, 
 

 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 97 
 
 Ample as Justice, Law, and God, require? 
 Whence the dread Magic, that so mocks the world, 
 Soothing pale conscience with Iscariot's kiss? 
 Look in thy heart ! There, reader, there it lies. 
 As fits the die within the forming mould, 
 So false religion for thy heart is framed, 
 And both dovetailed with most responsive skill, 
 ch into each, satanically nice. 
 
 by fountains, Nature! are the fatal spring 
 hence Pop'ry all her canker'd life-blood drains, 
 
 drains for ever for they ever flow ! 
 moral cast from our corrupted soul 
 Designing Rome hath taken; and contrived 
 A feign'd Religion, that, with fitting art 
 Infernally for each expression finds 
 Some flattering counterpart, or creed, or charm. 
 Tis man's religion, from the root of sin, 
 By passion foster'd and by pride increased, 
 Deep-grounded in the under soil intense, 
 Where guilty nature feels the goading pang, 
 As conscience prompts, or keen compunction wakes. 
 Hence creeds are moulded ; hence all gods are made ; 
 While reason, bribed to superstition, bows, 
 As sin and penance take relieving turns; 
 Till Man himself his own atonement dreams, 
 And draws salvation out of sighs, and tears. 
 
 bid hence, not Mind, whatever its lofty range 
 K 
 
98 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 Along the pathless Infinite of thought, 
 
 A shielding bulwark round the man can raise, 
 
 Safely to keep one Romish error out. 
 
 For oft religion is but God disguised; 
 
 And, when its nature from the name is torn, 
 
 Then Sounds and Shades for Sense and Substance i 
 
 And cheated man a Christless mock adores. 
 
 But God is love, by his Own love inspired, 
 
 As seen the Sun by His own ray reveal'd. 
 
 Then, vain the paeans which we loudly ring, 
 As though the great Millennium of the mind 
 Were coming; or, a mental noon began, 
 Too searching for the MAN OF SIN to face. 
 Philosophy the sting of Death renews 
 And back the vict'ry to the Grave restores. 
 Whatever prospect soaring Mind attain, 
 No good it masters, till in God it rest; 
 Where peace and pardon, law and love combine, 
 And Christ and Conscience can together dwell. 
 And why? because some creed we must embrace; 
 From Heaven or Hell religion must be drawn : 
 For, deep within Prognostications lurk 
 Of tongueless dread ; and boding Terrors strike 
 Their hidden chill; and Throbs immortal stir, 
 Like pulses of Eternity, our souls; 
 While moods there be, when flames of wrath to come 
 Prelude damnation, horribly distinct, 
 When the grave opens through the banquet's glare, 
 
1TITE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 99 
 
 the last Thunders their rehearsal ring, 
 igh sin confront it, yet will conscience speak, 
 Till sear'd and branded into senseless nought. 
 Shrined in the centre of our being, dwells 
 That voiceless Umpire, on his moral throne 
 Erectly pure; whose archetype is GOD, 
 In the stern radiance of severest law 
 Reflected there, for legislative might. 
 Here, Right and Wrong their true award receive ; 
 And Past and Present for acquittal stand ; 
 Or, condemnation from the bar receive; 
 Here Man, the ruin, in his ashes keeps 
 Some righteous embers, which a priest can rake, 
 Or quench, or quicken as the crisis needs. 
 
 When darkly flatter'd, and when deeply read, 
 Our hearts become but platforms, where the Priest 
 Can play the drama of his Church, at will ; 
 And shift the scenes with most consummate guile. 
 Some charm that echoes the exacting Taste, 
 Some lust respondent to the varied Will, 
 Some lie, to oscillate with pleasing lull 
 And skiird vibration, as the Mood requires, 
 Some gulling Fiend to take angelic form, 
 And o'er the pathway that to Hell conducts 
 Weave a rich carpet, of seductive woof: 
 Let these be organized, or well applied, 
 
 nd man's religion, in their magic, proves 
 
 Am 
 
100 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 How wondrously such Adaptation works! 
 Garb'd in a shroud of theologic guise, 
 Behold, the Arch-fiend, with undreaded power 
 His Priesthood guiding; and, with ritual spells 
 That soothe or sadden, flatter charm or chain 
 All that in Man of dust or devil acts, 
 Gild the Soul's ruin with Redemption's smile! 
 Thus, like a Puppet, many- wired and weak, 
 Our handled Nature to each sacred pull 
 Of pop'ry moves, with most responsive play. 
 
 Art thou a Student, from the pristine wells 
 Of learning, pleased and proud with classic thirst 
 To drink rich draughts of undiluted Mind ? 
 Or, is thine ear, by intellectual taste 
 To harmonies of ancient thought attuned ? 
 See! the hoar'd Fathers in their hallow'd shrines, 
 And pale Philosophy, in pensive state, 
 Ready to bathe thee in some mental calm, 
 And, rock thy terrors in ascetic trance: 
 Or, (to the chariot of the Senses chain'd,) 
 Do glare and grandeur, and do gilded sheens, 
 And Pomps, and Festivals, and painted Lies 
 With false and fatal eloquence, appeal 
 To the base passion of thine earthly will ? 
 Lo! the drunk Sense, with reasonless delight 
 May find a Ball-room spiritually gay 
 A ritual MELODRAME, by Rome arranged, 
 
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 101 
 
 Where the Blood dances, where Emotion reels, 
 And soft Damnation, musical and sweet, 
 
 faith to feeling, and that feeling blind ! 
 
 lut, chief to that religiously depraved 
 Self-righteous dream, of ever-prompting Pride, 
 From earth to heaven to work or win its way 
 Adapting Pop'ry, with magnetic art 
 Her necromance of ritual pomp applies. 
 A finite SELF to infinite transformed, 
 Some Trentine God by moral fiction shaped, 
 Is all that Passion's creed impure desires. 
 And lo! in Rome the heart's vile canons meet 
 Their very echo! grace and sin conjoined, 
 An outer Form for inner Life prepared, 
 A dead Religion where no God remains: 
 Here is thy CHARM, thou SORCERESS abhorr'd! 
 Self-gain'd salvation forms thy secret force; 
 Hence Liturgies, to please corruption plann'd; 
 Hence Creeds, to flatter hope, or bribe a fear, 
 And all the pantomime of bows and beads, 
 So perfect in pure falsity, Thou seem'st 
 By the GREAT LIAR of the world inspired, 
 To set the Adam of the sensual Mind 
 In motion feeling, so that nothing 's felt, 
 And working, so that nothing 's truly wrought 
 As Law proclaims, or holy Love demands. 
 Yet, Nature, pleased with self-atonement, dares 
 
 IK2 
 
102 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 Blindly to merit what mere Grace bestows, 
 And parts with all things SIN alone except! 
 
 And thus, Machines, by blind devotion turn'd, 
 For rites external, Rome's deluded slaves 
 Become, automatons for priestly Guile, 
 Moving, or motionless, as THAT inspires: 
 For each false yearning of self-righteous will 
 In Popery some pleasing vent can find, 
 Devout Fanatics, passionately wed 
 To Forms, where sense o'er spirit domineers, 
 May there a sanctimonious refuge find; 
 From seeming prayer, to suit a prayerless Heart, 
 Down to the Beads dull superstition counts. 
 Rome loves the CRUCIFIX, but hates the CROSS; 
 And thus, whatever gull'd emotion longs 
 Upon her shrines of Selfishness to lay, 
 Her human gospel cunningly applies; 
 Cheating the Soul with skeletons of truth. 
 No Taste, but here a subtle pleasure finds ; 
 No Sentiment, but what some echo meets; 
 Nor Fancy, which no fellowship can find. 
 Here, Painting, with its poetry of hues, 
 And Music, with its poetry of sound, 
 And Temples, with their poetry of stone 
 Augustly dim, and eloquently vast, 
 All, all compose a theologic CHARM 
 That screens the Spirit from its saviour-God. 
 
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 103 
 
 But Thou! Imagination's martyr'd fool, 
 Whose faith is fancy, in religion's dress, 
 Whose shining virtues are but gilded vice, 
 (Seen by the Bible's heart-exploring beam,) 
 For Thee the cup of Antichrist is drugg'd 
 With rapt intoxication's master-spells. 
 Anthems that seem to roll from Angel harps, 
 And silver chants that Seraphim might sing; 
 Paintings, where Beauty's virgin grace 
 Divinely mortal, exquisitely smiles; 
 And Sights superb, Processions slowly grand, 
 The Cloisters pale, where Pensiveness may roam, 
 The perfumed Incense, with its spiral clouds 
 Floating to heaven, before the vested Priests, 
 Whose robes with sacramental meaning wave; 
 All these, with Churches, where Religion stamps 
 The very stones with symbolizing awe, 
 And painted windows, by their colours preach 
 Sermons that strike imagination dumb, 
 Or melt it in soft martyrdom of sighs, 
 Here is the weaving of those spells that bind 
 Millions to darkness, in the chains of Rome ! 
 Whose mock religion The Almighty VEILS, 
 And each fine essence out of saving truth 
 Evaporates, in forms that stifle faith, 
 And from the Heart its vital heaven exclude : . 
 For what is holiness but Heaven below? 
 Or Heaven itself, but Holiness above? 
 
104 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 But, there be moments of mysterious gloom, 
 When frowns almighty round the heart of guilt, 
 Darker than death-shades, dismally profound, 
 Hover and hang; then the Past revives, 
 Till the dead Hours quicken in their graves, 
 The Infinite a FEAR becomes, 
 And all of God to all in man appeals 
 For vengeance! Horeb is on fire again, 
 In thunder preaching its horrific curse. 
 Then, is there Sinai in the soul of man, 
 Erected there by that instinctive Law 
 Which Nature's creed must canonize, and own: 
 And oft, beneath its altitudes of gloom, 
 Pale Terrors, and alarm'd compunctions fall 
 By strong enforcement, at its awful base; 
 And the bow'd spirit trembles into tears, 
 While thunder-peals of God-proclaiming truth 
 Preach to our guilt th' uncompromising Law, 
 Which Conscience echoes, with responsive groan. 
 Then, doubts, that make a Golgotha of mind, 
 Madden the sinner with a fest'ring sway: 
 The wind was sown the whirlwind now is reap'd; 
 The seed was darkness and the fruit is death. 
 And where, now pleasure's silken trance is o'er, 
 And fear'd eternity with curses rings, 
 Shall the torn spirit some true refuge find? 
 Oh! fell Imposture! priestly Fiction comes; 
 And all its juggl'ry of cheating lies, 
 
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 105 
 
 Indulgence vain, and penances most vile 
 
 That keep the sinner from the saving Cross, 
 
 Again renews; the soul with opium drugs; 
 
 Infernal laud'num blinded Conscience drinks, 
 
 Till thus, from terror into torpor soothed, 
 
 Her sunken witness in stagnation dies ; 
 
 And the torn Heart, by self-atonement heal'd, 
 
 Back to its smiles of sinful peace returns, 
 
 To drink from pleasure draughts of death once more : 
 
 Like a mad infant to its mother's breast, 
 
 Though pale, and poison'd by some murd'rous hand. 
 
 Here is thy venom, here thy spring of strength, 
 Thou master-spell of Satan's master-piece ! 
 With all the finish of a FIEND contrived 
 To soothe the conscience, when the rack begins; 
 To keep the penance and the priest in play; 
 To hold the Sinner but let loose the sin, 
 And by CONFESSION to absorb the CROSS. 
 Thus, papal lies to nature's roots descend; 
 They fix, they fasten in the moral soil 
 Their foul adaptions. Man is papal born, 
 And false religion must be papal too; 
 And, his exacting Nature nicely fit 
 In heart, in conscience, and uncertain will. 
 For Sin, when loved, for punishment, when fear'd, 
 Elastic Rome hath thus for both prepared 
 A recipe, that 'tween the two can act: 
 A sop for Conscience when it bleeds with dread, 
 
106 THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MAN. 
 
 And sin for Passion when that dread is o'er! 
 
 And thus, beneath the burning eye of Heaven, 
 
 No PARODY of God like this, deceives; 
 
 No SPELL by genius of satanic might 
 
 Forged in the secrecy of mystic lies; 
 
 No Miracle of dread imposture, works 
 
 Damnation with so masterly success 
 
 As when God's truth, travestied and transform'd, 
 
 To Man becomes Religion; and from Heaven 
 
 Beguiles him, while it seems to guide him There. 
 
 
Inspiration of tfte 
 
 IN two eternities each hour is hung 
 Of present being; in the midst, our Mind, 
 (Through some deep sense of undevelop'd power, 
 Haunted for ever by the UNATTAINED) 
 Fevers, and frets with intellectual thirst 
 For more of Perfect, Beautiful, and Pure, 
 For more of Truth's immensity and might, 
 Than ever rises on the reaching sense, 
 Or seems embodied in the shape of things. 
 The INFINITE we love, and half adore ; 
 Our heaven of feeling seeks a heaven of fact, 
 Some outward image, whose responsive mould 
 May body forth imagination's dream. 
 And hence, enthroned in some ethereal calm, 
 Conceptive Genius from creation draws 
 Types of vast truth, and symbols of the Soul, 
 To aid Perception, when its shaping power 
 Would vision out a Universe of love, 
 And Ideality in life reveal. 
 
 But if, beyond what nature's world supplies 
 A slakeless Heart for moral beauty thirsts, 
 
108 INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL. 
 
 How Fancy then, by combination frames, 
 From all the Heroes of the heart have felt, 
 From all that Martyrs of the mind have said, 
 Or dream'd, in prison gloom or palace smiles, 
 A model true of consummated Man ! 
 And, noble is such discontent of soul 
 That leads to Virtue's elevating path, 
 The Mind unprisons, and from chaining sense, 
 (That coarsely to the common life of things 
 Would bind us down, in drudgery and death) 
 To freedom and infinitude allures 
 The Man within. And hence, all dreamings high 
 And holy; hence imagination's flight 
 And aspirations, fetterless and pure. 
 For in this huge circumference of Life 
 The central immortality is man; 
 And, greater far than all the greatness seen 
 One viewless THOUGHT of his observing mind ! 
 . For all that apprehending Sense beholds 
 Forms but a veil, through which are dimly view'd 
 Deep intimations of Diviner Things, 
 And preludes faint to far profounder Truth 
 And Beauty, yet by thought to be unveiFd. 
 From hence the poetry of heart begins; 
 The painter's longing, and the sculptor's love, 
 Which purify from sensual dross and guile 
 Our inner life, with all-expanding force ; 
 Hence Homer drew, and solemn Milton drank 
 The inspiration of a deathless 
 
INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL. 109 
 
 In beautiful transcendencies of thought, 
 
 From earthly matter into heavenly forms 
 
 They soared for ever; and, by shaping Dreams 
 
 Imaged a life above the life they felt, 
 
 And breathed the immortality they sung. 
 
 Tis thus by passion for The INFINITE, 
 
 And glorious longings for the perfect GOOD, 
 
 The heart's millennium in all ages acts : 
 
 Hence Liberty her laurel'd hero frames, 
 
 Martyr, and Saint, and Sage their stamp receive, 
 
 Religion half her purity obtains, 
 
 the bright paradise of Morals blooms. 
 
 ms Luther, in his lone and lofty zeal 
 Impetuous, bold, and ardently sublimed 
 With feelings vivid as the soul they fired; 
 Who led the exodus of man and mind 
 From the vile Egypt of enslaving Rome 
 To Canaan's borders, in the world of Truth ; 
 E'en like a Prophet, o'er predestined scenes 
 Above the Cold, the Actual, and the Plain, 
 Mounted aloft; and sleeplessly pursued 
 Through tears and torture, outrage, grief, and wrong, 
 Through storm and cloud, convulsions and contempts, 
 That great EXEMPLAR which his mind conceived. 
 Beauty and Brightness their ideal throne 
 Erected in him; while their magic spell 
 Temper'd his heart to each ethereal tone: 
 And so, by pre-conception's purest charm 
 
110 INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL. 
 
 Mastered and moulded, his frail Being grew. 
 
 He lived the Poetry which others thought; 
 
 And from that hour, when friendly capture threw 
 
 A shroud of safety round his perilFd head, 
 
 Where the lone castle of Altenstein frown'd, 
 
 To that famed crisis, when from cells and chains 
 
 Heaven's cloistered Principles came forth to breathe 
 
 Pale from the prison of a thousand years, 
 
 His passion for the Perfect and the Pure 
 
 Work'd him to wonders! Like that mystic VOICE 
 
 Which often to the soul of Seers reveal'd 
 
 Visions of Godhead, vocally distinct, 
 
 To lofty, bold, and limitless designs 
 
 Some INSPIRATION seem'd to cheer him on. 
 
 Gigantic Efforts, flush'd with sacred zeal. 
 
 And high Endeavours, honourably vast; 
 
 Ardours intense, with flames of moral ire ; 
 
 The fury, freedom, and the tameless force 
 
 That grappled ever with imagined Fiends, 
 
 And in the thickness of the Spirit's fight 
 
 From God and angels gain'd applauding smiles, 
 
 These were expressions of one master Wish ; 
 
 The indications of a Soul, inspired 
 
 To be the great Apostle of mankind 
 
 In deeds of glory, for a Cause divine. 
 
 The war of Nature with itself, to quench, 
 
 And bind, in one fond brotherhood of faith, 
 
 The feelings and the family of MAN ; 
 
 A New Jerusalem on earth to hail; 
 
INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL. Ill 
 
 A Church redeem'd to apostolic mould; 
 
 A reigning JESUS, a rejoicing World, 
 
 To such bright centres of consummate Hope 
 
 Did Luther, with ideal passion, tend; 
 
 These made the Goal to which he onward press'd, 
 
 The lofty Mark at which his virtue aim'd; 
 
 And, from the level of a monk's low range 
 
 Lifted on high his ever-loving Heart, 
 
 And bade him, in a sunless age to shine, 
 
 A moral savior o'er eclips'd mankind. 
 
 Oh ! for a Luther to inspire us now ! 
 Th' awaking magic of some Mind immense, 
 To charm the sensual from the Nation's soul ; 
 Our passions dark, our appetites of dust 
 To brighten, or to banish ; till the love 
 Of whatsoe'er is lofty and divine, 
 Of whatsoe'er is glorious and august, 
 The Throne of public taste may re-ascend, 
 Give life to Genius, and a law to Thought, 
 And for the Beautiful true homage gain. 
 Wo to the Land ! our days are evil now : 
 Venality our vulgar glory reigns ; 
 Profit and Loss our sole inspirers are ; 
 The pining Arts prosaically mourn ; 
 Sculpture is dead, and Poetry in tears; 
 And Science, mostly for the palate reigns ! 
 UTILITY, our practic god becomes, 
 And Britain, but as Dives, longs to live 
 
112 INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL. 
 
 In pomp and purple, and in sumptuous joy ; 
 
 The Universe for comfort seems arranged, 
 
 The World, a warehouse for convenience plann'd! 
 
 And that Creation which, to faith sublime, 
 
 Or Hearts by poetry made wise, appears 
 
 The great encyclopaedia of our God, 
 
 (Whose alphabet, the mountain-letters make, 
 
 Whose golden syllables, are suns and stars,) 
 
 Is all denuded of its glory bright ; 
 
 And made a Temple, where the Senses may 
 
 Adore the USEFUL with vile worship now. 
 
 Alas for England! thus when Finite rules, 
 Till nought is true, but what the passions love ; 
 When all in spirit found in tasteful Lore, 
 Of raised in Effort, or sublime in Aim, 
 A mock becomes; while Principle expires, 
 And base Expediency's polluted breath 
 Falls, like a mildew, over minds and men ! 
 Romance is faded; Sentiment extinct; 
 All the fine chivalries of ancient Faith 
 Are laugh'd away, as meaningless and vain ; 
 Till Dullness prospers in her leaden smiles, 
 And Mediocrity, with damping weight, 
 All sacred Principles and sacred Powers 
 Darkens, at last, to intellectual death, 
 And leaves to Manhood little but a name ! 
 
 Oh, for a spirit of reviving grace, 
 
INSPIRATION OF THE IDEAL. 113 
 
 A resurrection from the tombs of mind ! 
 That soon the harmonies of olden thought. 
 Like buried music, from the Past may rise 
 In solemn cadence, and the Soul becalm. 
 Let Finite in the Infinite be merged; 
 Let Fancy dream, Imagination dare, 
 And Effort triumph in heroic forms; 
 While Art and Genius glorify the world 
 With beauty, by their sanctities and spells; 
 And Science, from the haunt of sensual things 
 Turn to the SOUL; and there, with rev'rent gaze 
 Deep within deep, the springs of NATURE trace : 
 There, myst'ries dazzle our delighted thought, 
 There, dust with Deity in contact comes; 
 There, most the Unapparent SPIRIT works; 
 I And awful CONSCIENCE, on Her secret throne 
 Reigns o'er the movements of rebellious soul ; 
 And, like an oracle, is ever found 
 
 >roving virtue, and proclaiming heaven. 
 
(Kobenant of 
 
 BOUND in the links of that ethereal Chain 
 Which upward, from the insect's tiny pulse 
 On earth that throbs, to yonder wheeling Orbs 
 Enormous, its unbroken coil extends, 
 Are all things by the hand Almighty held. 
 And thus, what chance to vulgar sense appears, 
 Is veil'd Causation, and confirm'd Decree. 
 Nature herself, through each organic change 
 And form, or function, is but WILL supreme, 
 In might or beauty, marching to result 
 Predestined; not an atom is consumed, 
 No leaf can vibrate, not a billow laugh, 
 Nor wild breeze flutter on its fairy wing, 
 But God overrules it, with control as nice 
 As that which belts the planets with a zone 
 Of harmony, and binds the stars with law. 
 And though mere Chaos, to an eye unpurged 
 By rays extracted from Essential Light, 
 (E'en by the Spirit's,) Life's convulsive scene 
 Too often looks, not thus, to them who read 
 The World's great volume, by explaining beams 
 From scripture darted, does the map of Time 
 
THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 For then, disorder is but Plan, 
 Divinely working by arranged degrees ; 
 Upward and onward, into Truth evolved 
 Through the long maze of labyrinthine wills 
 And human actions. Kings, and slaves, and priests ; 
 Erected monarchies, and crumbled thrones; 
 The shout of warriors, or an infant's wail; 
 In life, in faith, in conduct, or in creed 
 Whate'er be witnessed, GOD behind the Scene, 
 From the high watch-tower of incessant sway 
 Governs, and guides the blended Whole, unseen. 
 Never the EYE omniscient drops its lid, 
 Or slumbers ; whether Virtue's godlike brow 
 Be greeted, and the Church's heart exult ; 
 Or, dark Temptation, like a demon come, 
 Harness the soul, and lash Desire along 
 To ruin, in that change, no change exists. 
 For, in the freedom of the foulest will 
 Venting itself in vanity or vice ; 
 Or, in the soarings of a strong-wing'd faith, 
 That heavenward mounts, and leaves low earth be- 
 hind, 
 
 Around them moves ONE all-inclusive Will 
 Which, (leaving man responsible and free) 
 For God retains supremacy, and law. 
 
 And none, whose hearts, by fear made wise, 
 The lesson of their weakness well have learn'd ; 
 Or, rightly weigh'd, how much from ties of love 
 
116 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 And charms of social power, the moral frame 
 Impression gathers, dare to chance ascribe 
 A covenant of hearts, when struck between 
 Two in the faith, accordant and enjoin'd. 
 For Love our moral gravitation makes; 
 At once the motion and the rest, of man : 
 But when, and where, and how th' electric chain 
 Is closely fastened into friendship's heart, 
 Should make us ponder. For 'tis bane, or bliss, 
 And over character will cast a hue 
 Thy tinge, Eternity! will not o'erlay. 
 Since love is plastic; and by secret charm 
 Shapes to resemblance with its moral self 
 Our yielded bosom; and the yearning Heart 
 Thus takes the likeness of the thing he loves, 
 E'en as the insect, from the herb derives 
 A hue responsive to the food it eats. 
 Hence, virtue only forms the solid base, 
 Rooted and grounded in the heart of Truth, 
 Where friendship's high and holy structure stands 
 Bedeck'd, and order'd, by approving Heaven. 
 Two Finites can no lasting friendship make ; 
 Between them both an INFINITE must stand, 
 And He is, GOD ! Without HIM, all is mock ; 
 The paint and pageant of the heart's outside 
 By fancy colour'd, or by feeling tinged ; 
 But, wanting holiness, that All it needs 
 That crowns a friendship with undying charm. 
 
THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 117 
 
 ir Amity! when thus indeed the fruit 
 
 ,cred principle, by love inspired, 
 Thy bloom is fragrant of yon World of bliss 
 Ethereal, and with fadeless beauty rife. 
 And such, when Luther and Melancthon's heart 
 In oneness holy, blended their deep powers, 
 Wert thou; a friendship from the cross that sprang 
 In the green fulness of their common faith. 
 And, in the annals of the soul, how few 
 The feelings, that more lovingly have twined 
 A wreath of Nature round the brow of Grace, 
 Than those which, from the young and verdant breast 
 Of their twin manhood, did together rise ! 
 
 Distinct in tone, yet undivided, both 
 Their hearts in melody combined, and met. 
 But, if in nature Poesy would find 
 Their fancied echo hark! the torrent's fall 
 In liquid thunder foaming loud and fierce, 
 From crag to crag precipitously bold, 
 And there, is Luther! while along the banks 
 Tree-shaded, list, the low and quiet stream, 
 And there, is mild Melancthon ! Each to each 
 The grace of contrast, and the charm that glows 
 Round minds that vary, while the hearts embrace, 
 Imparted: both in one vast work converged; 
 And, ah ! what hours of evangelic peace, 
 What hymns of soul, what praises blent with prayers, 
 What feelings high, amid the ancient woods 
 
118 
 
 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 Of Wittemberg, were oft by both enjoy'd ! 
 
 And, iu the lassitude of lofty cares, 
 
 When, crush'd beneath his adamantine wrongs 
 
 The soul of Luther lay in bleeding gloom, 
 
 How the calm sunshine of Melancthon's face 
 
 Around him shed the heart-restoring smile! 
 
 But o'er THY page, unerring AUTHOR! most 
 
 Did their high friendship in communion blend; 
 
 As truth on truth, from out the classic grave 
 
 Of language, where dead meanings darkly slept, 
 
 Started to life, in Luther's noble tongue! 
 
 Till FATHERLAND its own free Bible hail'd, 
 
 And God in German to his country spake. 
 
 Thus, day by day, the Book of Heaven became 
 
 A sabbath port from Earth's tempestuous cares, 
 
 That raged, and roll'd around them : Scene and Time 
 
 And Circumstance, (those mast'ring Three 
 
 That make, or mar the All that worldings dream !) 
 
 To them were shadows, which the radiant WORD 
 
 Dazzled to nought, as clouds in sunbeams die. 
 
 The monarch's palace, or the monk's low cell, 
 
 Or chamber dim, from out whose frescoed walls 
 
 In massy framework look'd the pictured Dead 
 
 That live in hues immortal, 'twas alike 
 
 To them, who on this world, were in the next, 
 
 By faith, or feeling, ever wafted there. 
 
 Then, what be those alliances elect, 
 Those bonds and ligaments, by men baptized 
 
THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 endship's name, save mean and modish Forms, 
 Or Satires on the sacredness, and sense 
 Of this high Virtue? mere enamell'd Lies! 
 Too often are they but the painted show 
 Of perfumed amity; whose silken ties 
 Are light as gossamer, before the storm 
 Severe affliction round our lot may bring. 
 Convenience, lucre, folly, pride, or lust ; 
 A ride, a dinner, or a small request; 
 Or, base communion in some pleasing sin 
 By passion haunted there, mock Friendships reach 
 Their zenith, and their noblest zeal expires. 
 But when, alas ! unbodied, and unveil'd 
 Of earth's false trappings, in the World of souls 
 The gay companions of the Feast and Song 
 Meet in stern truth, unmantled to the core, 
 Hideously naked, to the very heart 
 Discovered, how the mask of Self will drop! 
 And many a cheek, by radiant kindness clothed, 
 Blacken with hate, with horror, and revenge 
 Infernal : friendship now is ruin found ; 
 And soft-mouth'd men, that seem'd in time so dear, 
 Will each to each satanically yell 
 Their horrible disgust, with loud dismay, 
 And loathe, like Fiends, their lost eternity ! 
 
 But, cast your friendship into chaster mould ; 
 Let genius, learning, or congenial taste; 
 Or, fellowship like that the Muses love, 
 
120 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 Refined as Laelius felt, or Scipio found: 
 
 Or, let Parnassus sing how poets lived, 
 
 Whose lives and verses did together run 
 
 And softly blend, like interwoven streams : 
 
 E'en at the best, such earth-born magic dies, 
 
 Soon as the shadows of the grave begin 
 
 To pall the Present, with its passing joys; 
 
 Then, all their sweetness and their strength depart ; 
 
 Bred from the world they with the* world recede; 
 
 Friendship and flesh, together in one tomb 
 
 They perish; for they lack'd that saving life, 
 
 That true elixir out of Godhead drawn, 
 
 Which makes immortal what we cherish here, 
 
 A salting grace, that seasons human love 
 
 For ever, holiness with heart combined! 
 
 But, there is friendship, pure as Angels love; 
 Which Trust, and Truth, and Tenderness create, 
 When two fond Hearts, with sacred force embrace 
 By union deep, unworldly, and divine. 
 Then, friendship like a school for mind becomes, 
 Where act to habit may itself mature ; 
 And, self denied in little things, advance 
 To show denial which a World may bless, 
 And all The Churches with their plaudits hail. 
 Here, Faith with Friendship can indeed concur; 
 Beyond mere tastes, and tempers, and according tones; 
 Since here be elements, whose charm outwears 
 Sickness and sorrow, death and harsh surprise, 
 

 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 121 
 
 With all the jarring dissonance that tries 
 
 The truth of feeling, in its wisest hour. 
 
 But, whence are these, but from th' Almighty drawn, 
 
 And, like Himself, unchangeably sublime! 
 
 Here is a friendship, perfect, calm, sincere, 
 
 Above mutation, and beyond decay; 
 
 A friendship, LORD! whose archetype is Thine; 
 
 For, when on earth, Thy mortal Life assumed 
 
 Manhood, with each consummate trait adorned; 
 
 And human Feeling, how it thrills to view 
 
 Laid on thy breast, the much-beloved St. John ! 
 
 th, for a Friendship that outlives the sun ! 
 ast when Time hath faded, and when Flesh 
 With all its burden, is a buried dream ! 
 It drops a balsam in the wounded breast, 
 Soothes a torn mind, the soul's dejection heals, 
 'Tis heart to sympathy, and hand to love, 
 The look of feeling, and the lip of faith ; 
 It charms the wisest, can the feeblest worth 
 Uphold, and makes the poorest rich indeed. 
 
 M 
 
 'an forms the foe, but God alone the friend,- 
 If friend he be, with truthful love endow'd, 
 j And graced with those accoutrements of mind 
 ' Religion sanctions. Then, what kindred bliss, 
 ! What sweet affinities of thought, or taste ! 
 The Janus temple of a jealous heart 
 That shuts, or opens as the hour demands, 
 
122 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 Is here unwitnessed; all is frank display, 
 
 That scorns pretence, and scatters each disguise; 
 
 A sun-clear verity, whose shining force 
 
 Copes with all clouds of accident, or change, 
 
 Beams on the forehead of a cordial friend, 
 
 How brightly glad, how greeting, and how bold ! 
 
 Here is an amity our noblest wants 
 
 Delight to welcome, as their true supply: 
 
 It feeds the intellect with active life, 
 
 The heart enlarges into loftier swell, 
 
 And, in the counterplay which it gives, and asks, 
 
 Finds equal pleasure, when the echo sounds 
 
 Sincere, and manly. But, affliction most 
 
 The high-born amity of holy minds 
 
 Illustrates : then, the sacrifice of self, 
 
 Devoted, prompt, and passionately dear, 
 
 Whether by griefs long watch through lonely hours, 
 
 In tears, or substance, or by costly life 
 
 The sacrificing Heart itself unfold, 
 
 How godlike is it! how resembling HIM, 
 
 The soul's PHILANTHROPIST, creation's FRIEND, 
 
 The World enriching by HIMSELF made poor ! 
 
 Friendship like this, the seal of God confirms, 
 
 Who cast our Nature into social mould, 
 
 And bade it seek for brotherly response, 
 
 Or bosom-counterparts, in bliss or wo. 
 
 And thus, whatever his rank, or high renown, 
 
 Man needs an Echo, whose responsive charm 
 
 Doubles himself, by feeling's prompt reply ; 
 
THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 123 
 
 To rich enjoyment adds a heigh t'ning zest 
 
 Untold; and, when misfortune's east- wind blows, 
 
 Or, cutting blasts of cold ingratitude 
 
 Sweep the lorn bosom, by the world betray'd, 
 
 Softer than dews from Hermon's sainted height 
 
 The tones of Friendship, dropt in Feeling's ear, 
 
 For comfort! Mine be thus some Heaven-made 
 
 friend, 
 
 And I will clasp him with the heart's embrace 
 For ever! Morning with its radiant blush, 
 Noon with its glory, Twilight with its trance, 
 Or balmy Night, with all the stars awake 
 In beauty walking o'er their midnight round, 
 How are they each, when friendship's echoing heart 
 Throbs near our own, with added charm endow'd! 
 Yea, all those homilies of Love and Might, 
 Appealing NATURE to the pensive reads 
 Down winding lanes, or paths of vernal bloom, 
 Or rustic haunt where rambling Boyhood loves 
 To stray and linger, how the tasteful friend 
 Can with ourselves, interpret all their tones, 
 In some pure strains of poetry and peace, 
 When hearts are mingled; and mild nature wears 
 A face of welcome, answerably sweet 
 To all who woo her. Nor does Faith deny 
 That e'en in Heaven etherial friendships bring 
 Their calm addition to celestial joy. 
 For TRUTH is social, in the highest orb 
 Of her dominion ; GOD himself is not alone, 
 
124 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 But in deep light, Tripersonally throned, 
 In plural Godhead His perfection holds. 
 
 So Martin Luther and Melancthon felt. 
 For them religion form'd no stagnant creed ; 
 Nor were they palsied by a cold pretence 
 To miscaird virtue; faith and friendship blent 
 Their sweetness, and together strongly grew 
 In the rich soil of their communing breasts. 
 And who that think, what this rare friendship did, 
 And gratefully will not That MIND adore, 
 Who so ordain'd, by Counsels laid above, 
 That Souls like these in place and time should meet, 
 Blend their brave hearts, and with united hands 
 The Fabric of the Reformation build 
 In rising glory? Each that structure claimed; 
 And as some Builder, first in mind conceives 
 The mansion that exterior Art reveals, 
 And models only from a Type within; 
 So, from His pattern of eternal thought, 
 The ARCHITECT Supreme His will expressed 
 In that vast Work, the Eeformation rear'd; 
 And, not a stone, to form that fabric rose, 
 Nor human workman there his building hand 
 Devoted, but from God directly came 
 The guiding Impulse. Glory, then, to HIM! 
 Who thus together into oneness knit 
 Two hearts distinct, as those twin Leaders bore 
 Who ransom'd Israel from Egyptian chains. 
 
THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 125 
 
 Theirs was a friendship more than Nature forms, 
 ?ancy begets, or genial tastes preserve : 
 The one like thunder! arm'd by daring soul, 
 Breathing defiance with a lion voice; 
 Tempestuous often with a mental storm 
 That heaved him into overflowing wrath, 
 With rage unbounded! but the other, mild 
 ind chasten'd, passionless and curbed; 
 A. halcyon man of holiness and zeal, 
 Whose heart was quiet in its zenith hour. 
 Dr, thus analogy the two may type : 
 Intensely burning, like a tropic noon 
 [n one the character of heart appears; 
 The other, like a placid twilight scene, 
 Bathed in serenity of softest dews, 
 With stars down looking on the lovely whole. 
 
 But yet, through many a shock unshook they went, 
 And stood united, when all else dissolved 
 Around them; 'twas The CROSS, and That alone, 
 That so cemented with abounding grace 
 Two Hearts, that else were utterly unlike. 
 Here, was a Nucleus; round this central Point 
 Of God for glory, and His truth for man, 
 They met, they mingled, with harmonious love 
 In concord perfect : but, in tones of taste 
 Agreed to differ, with delightful ease. 
 Contrast with them, like two magnetic poles 
 Their hearts attracted, and by secret love 
 
 M2 
 
126 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 Each into each with soft concernment drew 
 
 The closer; electric their distinction proved. 
 
 And, more than this, may grateful wisdom find ; 
 
 For each to God's mysterious Cause supplied 
 
 Some fitting element, a power distinct, 
 
 That, wanting, would have left the rest unsafe 
 
 Or tott'ring. Thus, Melancthon's classic toils, 
 
 And tasteful culture, met exacting Mind 
 
 In progress; while from Luther's rushing zeal 
 
 There went a spirit of sublime attack 
 
 That shook the Popedom, like a whirlwind-blast, 
 
 Making it tremble down to superstition's depths 
 
 Of darkness ! Thus, two Hands distinct they were, 
 
 Each for His task appointed, and prepared, 
 
 And both by WISDOM wielded from on High. 
 
 Their work is done; their costly toil complete; 
 And they are gathered to that mystic Land 
 Where all things tend, as to their final home, 
 Which are in time and tendency revealed. 
 But, is that friendship, incorrupt and bright, 
 Effulging from the radiant fount of Love 
 Celestial, is it in yon Heaven absorbed, 
 There swallow'd, in that Infinite of Bliss 
 That now contains them ? Are those ties of Heart 
 Broken on Earth, no more in Heaven renew 'd ? 
 If here below, our fondest cravings prove 
 Affections make the vowels of the mind ; 
 And like a consonant, when left alone, 
 

 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 127 
 
 Man without love, seems unpronounced and mute. 
 
 Will yearning Manhood in the skies be lone ? 
 
 Alas ! if nothing save what Earth inspires 
 
 By us be worshipped; then, as Time concludes, 
 
 And, looming dimly from the spectral depths 
 
 Of strange eternity, sightless Woes 
 
 And shapeless Horrors, worse than guilt forbodes, 
 
 Hover in view, like flashes in the dark 
 
 Our Friendships will at once go out 
 
 In blackness; better had they never been! 
 
 But, when two Hearts, heroic, brave, and pure. 
 Like Luther's and Melancthon's nobly throb 
 Through years of trial with melodious beat 
 Unfaltering, can we think the upper World, 
 Where Men redeemed the nearest circle form 
 Of radiant Worshippers, who round THE LAMB 
 Hymn golden numbers from their lyres of Light 
 For ever, can we think, that Hearts like these, 
 Will ever there in single glory chant 
 That Song, united which on Earth they sung? 
 No ! from a heartless creed, so sternly cold, 
 Our Dreams, our Aspirations, and our Hopes 
 At once recoil, the Stoic's heaven reject, 
 As unappointed. If below, the Bonds 
 Of sacred amity, by grace refined, 
 Mid all the waste of sin-degraded hours, 
 And all the taxing selfishness that tires 
 The bosom, yet themselves inviolate keep; 
 
128 THE COVENANT OF HEARTS. 
 
 How will those Bonds, from imperfection freed, 
 Gather new strength, and nobler charms enjoy 
 In that blest Meeting-place of Minds above ! 
 Then, shall that Excellence whose winning form, 
 Though varied, held the Heart's accorded throne 
 So firmly, shine with far intenser ray 
 Than earth experienced. Thus, our mounting soul 
 May cleave the firmament on wings of faith, 
 Outsoar the stars, beyond the planets rise, 
 And leave creation far our flight behind; 
 And there, within the Heaven of Heavens, behold 
 Luther in light, and find Melancthon still, 
 Immortal FRIENDS in yon immortal Home! 
 From the same Fount of never-failing Bliss 
 Their blending spirits drink responsive joy 
 Unspeakable: and there, in God embower'd, 
 What once made prayer is now in praise enjoy'd; 
 The Past of earth, in heaven a Present forms, 
 And gives eternal Consciousness a theme 
 For wonder, worship, or unwearied Love. 
 
fie SBnfque 
 
 THERE'S nothing little in this world of ours, 
 
 Because, whatever mocking Sense may dream, 
 
 In nothing rarely can we act alone. 
 
 Built like that fabled roof, where finest stones 
 
 Each into each by interlacing art 
 
 So exquisitely blend, with poised effect, 
 
 That, touch but one, and, lo ! the fabric all 
 
 Shakes into movement with recoiling shock: 
 
 So is our World, ineffably arranged. 
 
 Thus, the first glance which God's forbidden tree 
 
 Drew from the eye of earth's frail Mother, forms 
 
 With our last sin a fatal junction now! 
 
 to Fact is isolate, no Feeling lone; 
 ingled are we by perpetual lines 
 Of moral net- work, infinitely fine, 
 Like magic influence all around us drawn; 
 That makes our conduct endless, by the thrill 
 And tone of feeling, that it often strikes 
 On the deep chord of ages yet to come. 
 
 Nothing is little where a moral lurks: 
 
130 THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 
 
 The last vibration of the Saviour's lip, 
 
 Expiring, more of Deity involved 
 
 Than all the gorgeous universe contains. 
 
 Though mean the wood which then Messiah bore 
 
 In bleeding glory, when the planted Cross 
 
 Lifted HIM up a sacrifice for sin 
 
 Tremendous, yet that wood a focus form'd, 
 
 Where the vast riches of eternal love 
 
 Concentered all the TRINITY at once 
 
 In action! though a point in space, The Tree, 
 
 Around it charm'd Eternity revolved; 
 
 And from it, as a salient centre, spring 
 
 The hopes immortal of our world redeemed. 
 
 Not might of scene, not magnitude of space, 
 
 Nor aught of majesty, that Sense admires, 
 
 Or Time can value by his vulgar hours, 
 
 To Truth a character, or creed a strength 
 
 Can give : for PRINCIPLE a glory hath 
 
 Beyond the limits of defining man ; 
 
 High-seated, throned in empyrean calm, 
 
 An emanation of eternal Mind, 
 
 E'en like the ABSOLUTE of God it reigns 
 
 And rules, a changeless, unconditioned THING, 
 
 The Alpha and The Omega of all 
 
 In Love stupendous, or in Law severe. 
 
 Thus, round that moment when the Saxon monk, 
 Bold as some rock that breasts the main alone, 
 Lifted his brow, and faced his gather'd foes, 
 
THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 
 
132 THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 
 
 By truth inspired, from Scripture then awoke 
 To perish never ! noble-hearted monk 
 Of Wittemberg ! Nor, let the mocker doubt, 
 His YES or NO the wheel of ages turn'd. 
 He balanced Europe on a single breath; 
 For what he felt the World is feeling still 
 In heart eterniz'd; Luther is alive 
 By influence; and each syllable of truth 
 In Worms that sounded its immortal note, 
 Intones our Churches with its music now. 
 
 Oh ! 'twas a scene, heroically great 
 And unsurpassed; save, when the fetter'd Paul 
 Lifted his eyes of light and brow of truth 
 Before Agrippa, till that prince of lust 
 Under the sway of his tempestuous words 
 And bold harangue, did tremble, like a tree 
 Shook by the night-blast. From the hills of Rome 
 The Vatican in vain its thunders roird; 
 And thy huge palace, dark-wall'd Pleissenburg ! 
 Witnessed the brave Defender, when he fell'd 
 Those Anakims of intellectual might, 
 The proud Goliaths of theology. 
 But, lo! at length, the very MAN OF SIN 
 (That crown'd blasphemer who travesties Christ) 
 Himself, upon his Throne of lies shall start 
 And shiver. " Pile for pile shall kindle now, 
 Bull, Law, and Canons, and Clementines, all 
 Shall in one sacrifice of flame expire !" 
 
THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 133 
 
 ke the Monk undaunted; and the blaze 
 iden'd and rose beside the eastern gate 
 
 f ittemberg, above that papal mass 
 r Fictions mould'ring, and Impostures vile ; 
 bile with a shout, that should for ever ring 
 i heart of Europe with responsive tones, 
 plauding thousands hail'd the deed sublime 
 bich kindled that protesting flame of truth, 
 Lose faint reflection scorches Popedom now. 
 
 iut, there He stands! in superhuman calm 
 >nter'd, and sublime: around Him, Pomp 
 Blaze imperial; haughty eyes, and tongues 
 iose tones are tyranny, in vain attempt 
 The heaven-born quiet of his soul to move. 
 Crown'd with the grace of everlasting truth 
 A more than monarch, among Kings he stood : 
 And while without, the ever-deep'ning mass 
 Of murni'ring thousands, on the windows watch'd 
 The torchlight gleaming through the crimsoned glass 
 Of that throng'd Hall, where TRUTH on trial was, 
 Seldom on earth, did ever Sun go down, 
 Or, Evening mantle o'er a grander scene. 
 There Priests and Barons, Counts and Dukes were 
 
 met, 
 
 Landgraves and Margraves, Earls, Electors, Knights, 
 And Charles the Splendid, in the glowing pride 
 Of princely youth, with Empires at his feet; 
 
134 THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 
 
 And there the miner's son, to match them all! 
 
 With black robe belted round his manly waist, 
 
 Before that Bar august he stood serene ; 
 
 By self-dominion reining down his soul. 
 
 Melancthon wept; and Spalatinus gazed 
 
 With breathless wonder on that wondrous Man ; 
 
 While, mute and motionless, a grim array 
 
 Of priests and monks, in combination dire, 
 
 On Luther fastened their most blood-hound gaze 
 
 Of bigotry: but not one rippling thought disturb'd 
 
 The calm of heaven on his commanding face. 
 
 Meek, but majestic simple, but sublime 
 
 In aspect, thus he braved the wrath of Rome, 
 
 With brow unshrinking, and with eyes that flash'd 
 
 As if the spirit in each glance were sheath'd ; 
 
 And then, with voice that seem'd a soul in sound 
 
 Made audible, he pled the Almighty's cause 
 
 In words almighty as the cause he pled, 
 
 THE BIBLE'S! God's religion, not the Priest's, 
 
 By Craft invented, and by Lucre saved, 
 
 For THIS, life, limb and liberty he vow'd 
 
 To sacrifice; though Earth and Hell might rage, 
 
 Not Pope, nor Canon, Council nor Decree 
 
 Would shake him ! From the Throne of that resolve 
 
 By Fiend nor Angel would his Heart be hurl'd ; 
 
 Truth and his Conscience would together fight, 
 
 The World 'gainst them and they against the World ! 
 
 And then, with eyes that flash'd celestial fire, 
 
THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 135 
 
 Full in the face of that Assembly roll'd 
 
 The fearless Monk those ever-famous WORDS 
 
 " GOD HELP ME ! HERE I STAND ALONE. AMEN !" 
 
 And let all Ages that "AMEN" repeat, 
 For it is worthy; Angels might the word 
 Have welcom'd, and the eternal arches rung 
 An echo as it rolled from Luther's lip 
 Solemn and deep, and with stupendous fate 
 Attended, since The Truth was then uplift, 
 The Cross defended, and the Bible crown'd 
 With victory; when alone the Monk of God 
 Rallied his spirit into high resolve, 
 And 'gainst the Pope, the Devil, and The World, 
 Terror, and Time, and man's Ingratitude, 
 Fearless as Stephen, like a martyr stood 
 Firm as THE ROCK on which his faith was built. 
 
 But not for this will Persecution's fang 
 Be blunted. Hark! beneath the vaulted roof 
 Of Worm's Cathedral, rise the chanted hymns 
 Round the High Altar; while pale incense-clouds 
 Float their soft fragrance through the aisles immense 
 Of that grey temple. There, at Charles's feet, 
 (Haughty, and with imperious rancour stung) 
 Vile Aleander, on his knee, presents 
 An EDICT, dooming Faith and Luther's soul 
 Together, under ban and blast to be 
 Unceasing: " since the Monk was fiendish man, 
 
136 THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 
 
 And all of heresies by heart conceived, 
 
 By Satan loved, or damning falsehood dreamt, 
 
 Hath Hell epitomised in him at last'/' 
 
 Now, drops the curtain on the DRAMA'S view; 
 Strangely and suddenly the scene's o'erveil'd 
 By Myst'ry; human actors are withdrawn; 
 Inaudibly along the darken'd Stage 
 Of wonders, moves the lone ALMIGHTY now, 
 Himself evolving what His love decrees 
 Inscrutable, by boasting man unshared. 
 And, just like Philip to Azotus rapt, 
 Sightless, or lost, shall Luther for awhile 
 Appear; and safe in castl'd shade retire, 
 That God alone may God's true champion be; 
 Nor finite agency presume to claim 
 For effort mortal, what the Hand Divine 
 Alone can finish, with perfective grace. 
 Yes, MAN shall vanish, that the CAUSE may rest, 
 Ark'd in the hollow of JEHOVAH'S Hand, 
 Shelter'd and safe. But he, the Hope of all, 
 Far in the forest of Thuringa hid, 
 E'en in that hour, when most the dazzled scene 
 Had hail'd him Hero of all prayer and praise, 
 At once is banish'd! There, shall Luther find 
 A teaching solitude, where Faith may learn 
 Meekly to suffer, and with Flesh contend; 
 Or, with some Angel of mysterious gloom 
 Sternly to wrestle, till the break of day, 
 

 THE UNIQUE OF HISTORY. 137 
 
 I The morning twilight of a better mood 
 
 I Dawn on his mind, in radiant peace again. 
 Down his own spirit he shall learn to gaze 
 
 j Through many an humbling grief, and sorrowing 
 
 prayer; 
 
 And, like his LORD, that mystic Ladder climb, 
 Whose steps are sufferings, and whose top in Heaven 
 Through glory reaches! Chasten'd thus, and calm'd, 
 
 ! The Monk may gather up his soul for God, 
 And live that faith he taught the world to love. 
 
Interlude. 
 
 THY beauty, Nature, hath a chorded spell 
 
 Responsively for tones of feeling tuned, 
 
 In moments deep of myst'ry, and of mind. 
 
 How often when the human World looks harsh 
 
 And loveless; when no eye reflects the ray 
 
 Of sorrow, beaming mildly from our own ; 
 
 When, darkly girdled by a zone of thought, 
 
 Apart, and voiceless in our souls we move; 
 
 Thy scenes of calm, thy solitudes profound, 
 
 Like mute Interpretations, seem to wear 
 
 An outward mirror of the mood we feel ! 
 
 Thy very silence to the soul appeals 
 
 With more than language; thy maternal hush 
 
 Upon the heart's strange fever falls, like dew. 
 
 Sublime in thy sublimities we grow, 
 
 And lose the littleness of earthly thoughts 
 
 Amid the vastness of thy speaking Forms 
 
 Of grace, and Grandeurs which Thy throne surround 
 
 Soon may the mind, by such entrancement, soar: 
 
 From the rank vileness of this vexing world 
 
 Awhile set free, it shares a nobler life, 
 
 Holding dim converse with all Shapes and Hues 
 
THE INTERLUDE. 139 
 
 Which body forth the Beautiful and Bright 
 
 Within; or personate the Charms we feel. 
 
 How eloquent the everlasting Hills 
 
 Do then appear ! proclaiming with their peaks 
 
 Majestic, HIM whose fiat bade them stand 
 
 Like monuments to Ages long no more. 
 
 Or haply, in the Heart's deep-thoughted hours 
 
 Musing beside the immemorial Sea 
 
 On some poetic shore, (while wave on wave 
 
 In hollow thunder lisps th' Almighty's name,) 
 
 How strangely does electric Nature thrill 
 
 Through forms of matter, on the feeling mind ! 
 
 As though the Elements, by love inspired, 
 
 Would image what our mental dream enjoys. 
 
 And did not He, a beauteous symbol trace 
 Between the gladness of his free-born soul 
 And nature's jubilee, of sun and breeze, 
 Heaven-guarded Luther! on his homeward track 
 From that proud Diet, where a miner's Son 
 O'erawed the Princes, in their hall of pride, 
 And sent the arrows of resistless Truth 
 From God's own quiver, through the heart of Rome. 
 The crystal radiance of a vernal noon 
 Around him shined; and hark! from forest-boughs 
 Amid whose branches play'd the truant breeze, 
 A quiring populace of birds resound 
 Their sweet hosannahs, and their summer-hymns; 
 And, high o'er all, th' imperial Lord of day 
 
140 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 Eyed, like a parent, the rejoicing Earth 
 Beneath him basking, in a sleep of smiles. 
 'Twas thus the countenance of Nature gave 
 A beaming welcome, bright to Luther's heart. 
 All elements his counterpart assumed; 
 Meadow and tree intelligently wore 
 An aspect, touched with some respondent hue 
 To all within him. In that mood intense, 
 His rapture was religion, while the mind 
 Revell'd in radiance, like a lark that sings 
 In sunshine, or a bee that basks in bloom. 
 
 His joy was God experienced; and himself 
 In heart, was living Scripture, for the glow 
 And gladness felt were letters turn'd to life, 
 Or promises, by rich experience proved, 
 In calm almighty through the bosom pour'd. 
 Hence his free heart, by cheering grace inspired, 
 Swell'd like a sail before the gallant wind; 
 Though papal bloodhounds for his spirit yell'd, 
 A peace beyond disturbing fiends to mar, 
 His conscience bosom'd; though the tempest raged, 
 The swelling purpose of his mind, unmoved, 
 Rose o'er each danger; as the perill'd bark 
 Bounds into harbour through a battling sea, 
 And in calm sunshine dries its dripping sail. 
 
 Thus safe is he, against whose life abhorr'd 
 The dooming blast of Rome's relentless ire 
 
THE INTERLUDE. 141 
 
 By fell edict was thunder'd; till at eve, 
 I As dew-drops thicken on Thuringa's boughs, 
 And bird and breeze on folded wing retired, 
 Sit brooding, back to Eisnach's boyish scene 
 The monk is wending; but as near He comes, 
 j That brave heart, softer than a willow bends 
 Beneath the magic of remembered Days ! 
 For now, that local air again he breathes, 
 : Where once, a foodless child of wo, he fought 
 j With iron hardship, and with cruel want, 
 I Bathing the crust reluctant mercy gave 
 With drops of anguish, from his harrow'd soul 
 So often wrung : But now, in dreaming calm, 
 How his heart echoes, what reviving hours 
 Are back restoring to all scenes and spots 
 What once they took of character, or tone, 
 Of stern or mild, of melancholy, or strange ! 
 And thus full softly doth the Man subside 
 Down to the Boy. For e'en as infant smiles 
 Transmute the aged, till their features old 
 With infantile expression learn to gleam 
 In gentle answer; so experienced Mind, 
 Touch'd by the spirit of life's early scene, 
 Replies serenely to the haunting charm 
 Of vernal fancies; or of vanished hours 
 Which waken round us, when maturer life 
 Down the green windings of gone youth descends. 
 Yea, all the poetry of peaceful thought 
 (For men live poems in their purest hours, 
 
142 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 But write them when the heart-song overflows,) 
 Becharms him, till his eye looks glist'ning prayer. 
 Oh, had they seen Him in his softer mood 
 Unman tied what a loving Heart was there; 
 Guileless as that which throbb'd on Jesu's breast I- 
 Those cowFd Automatons of barren Faith, 
 Whose frequent worship was but ritual wires 
 In heartless, mindless, unimpassion'd play 
 The man evolving, Luther then had taught, 
 By the fond gushes of this feeling hour, 
 That true religion was a manful love ; 
 A godward motion of believing soul 
 Panting for Heaven, but yet with Earth at peace, 
 And not ashamed her ruling spells to own. 
 
 Thus, might we like the travelled monk, return, 
 And backward to the home of Childhood wend, 
 How much of elemental Heart and Mind 
 Would then return, to whence of old it came, 
 Helping to fashion the unfolding man ! 
 For character is combination drawn 
 From Time and Scene, from Circumstance and Spot. 
 The brooks which prattled in our Boyhood's ears, 
 Or, on whose wavelets sail'd our tiny boat; 
 The tree we climb'd, the path we loved to trace, 
 The eowslipp'd valley, or the hawthorn bloom; 
 The widow's cottage, or some thatch'd abode 
 Where dwelt the vet'ran of our native vale, 
 Who smoothed our head, or tapp'd our rosy cheeks 
 

 THE INTERLUDE. 143 
 
 With ancient humour, all, with shaping charm 
 Secret but sure, that BEING help to build 
 Which manhood in its moral structure shows. 
 For there is nothing which we feel, or see, 
 Admire or welcome, but a forming power 
 From them doth flow, and reach the vestal mind. 
 j Sunrise and Sea, and solemn- vested Night 
 I When mute creation God's cathedral turns 
 | For Nature's worship, with all social things ; 
 I The Hand you grasp, the Hearts your own selects, 
 j The sigh you echo, or the tear you shed 
 i Responsive, none wield unavailing sway; 
 i But leave impression, tinge, or secret tone 
 Hereafter in your complex manhood felt, 
 Or found. And, like as our sepulchral dust 
 Howe'er transmuted by organic change, 
 Under the blast of Death's awaking trump 
 Back to the Person, by attractive law 
 Shall rally, and a perfect body form ; 
 So, may the structure of our moral frame 
 Completely from such causes manifold 
 after finish of its form educe. 
 
 ta 
 u 
 
 ut now, from scenes where childhood's dark- 
 
 wing'd years 
 
 Had bleakly wafted his unfriended life 
 Through many a storm, to Mora's rustic wild, 
 Onward, behold, the dauntless trav'ller speeds. 
 
 i Unwf 
 
144 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 In that calm village where his lowly sire 
 Drew the first breath, his soul partakes 
 The deep overflowings of affection's tide, 
 Tranquil as tender: placed amid kind hearts, 
 That beat fond echoes to his faithful own, 
 What peace he finds ! what purified repose ! 
 Not his the bosom cold, or shut, or stern ; 
 Nor mock philanthropy! which makes a world 
 Its giant fav'rite, while domestic chords 
 Are unallow'd to vibrate through the breast, 
 And distant love proves mere neglect at home ! 
 Fresh on his soul the dews of feeling lay 
 Lovely and bright, as youth's unwither'd prime 
 Had witnessed; in The man remained the boy: 
 And they who wonder'd, when the Hall of Worms 
 Erect and moveless saw the HERO stand, 
 Might here have seen him with a graceful stoop 
 Bend to the lowly; and, with winning smile 
 Attractive, clasp the humblest Hand that came, 
 And all his glory into shade recall. 
 Simplicity alone was Greatness here; 
 And, in the hush of this ancestral vale, 
 High on the wings of meditative bliss, 
 In psalms, and lyric melodies of mind 
 Mounted his heart beyond the rising gloom 
 Beneath him, o'er his earthly Future spread. 
 Like some sweet bird, that oft, at golden noon 
 Soaring and singing, to the gates of Light 
 

 THE INTERLUDE 145 
 
 Wings its loved way, in ecstasy and song 
 But soon as Earth's low atmosphere it tries, 
 ops the glad plume, and songless grows again. 
 
 t, this parenthesis of holy calm 
 Is brief as blest ; again, his forward course 
 Through the green twilight of Thuringa's woods, 
 Behold the man of God in peace renew, 
 Under the balmy flush of May inspired; 
 Till, lo! at length old Glisbach's hoary fane 
 Glooms on the air; and, girt with feudal walls, 
 Altenstein glimmers from its castled height 
 Serene, but stern. But see ! in golden calm 
 The Day is gliding down the burning west, 
 Where the red Sun his farewell pomp arrays; 
 While round about him, as for royal sheen, 
 Banners of crimson lustre wave, and form, 
 Till the far clouds, with sympathetic hues 
 As all around in radiant sleep they lie, 
 Catch the bright meanings from his kingly face 
 Reflected. Soon the forest-boughs begin, 
 In the tranc'd quiet of a sunset hour 
 To still their waving; for the languid breeze 
 Drops its gay motion; and the insect hum 
 Low in the grass delights a pensive ear; 
 While the glad wings of home-returning birds 
 Flap on the air, with audible advance, 
 That bids you track them to their pine-built nest 
 With eye pursuant. But amid this peace 
 
146 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 Of nature, deep as if with conscious depth, 
 
 Hark ! tramp on tramp ! with ringing hoofs whicq 
 
 rend 
 
 The air before them, while the riven trees 
 Tremble, as if the sudden whirlwind tore 
 Their tangled umbrage, horse and horsemen arm'd 
 Plunge into view, in panoply complete, 
 And mask'd: then, swift and silent, ere a thought 
 Can think protection, Luther, from his steed 
 Dismounted, by some mailed horseman grasp'd 
 And cloak'd, and on a charger rudely thrown, 
 At once is captured, as by magic chain'd. 
 And, in a second, hark ! the sounding hoofs 
 Ring the deep forest with a hollow clang; 
 Then, onward through its beechen wilds and woods, 
 Plunge the mask'd riders, with a trackless speed; 
 And, Luther! where is now thy destined home? 
 Who can forecast what God or man intends? 
 Or, tell what dungeon, stake, or crushing wrong 
 Awaits thee, when at once so bright a day 
 Ends in the shadow of so strange eclipse ! 
 
 But Night hath gathered; and her palling shade 
 Garments the woods, that now with blacker gloom 
 The mountain-heights of lone Thuringa fringe ; 
 And yet, the horsemen, with a voiceless flight 
 Hurry their captive through untrodden paths 
 Till the Moon rises, and her silv'ring gleam 
 Pale on the fortress of the Wartburg sleeps ; 
 

 THE INTERLUDE. 147 
 
 That yonder, dim and melancholy, stands, 
 Calm as the clear cold heavens which o'er it spread 
 Their arch of silence : there the horsemen pause, 
 Wearied and worn; and, list! the bugle sounds 
 A waking challenge in the warder's ear; 
 Drawn are the bolts, and down the drawbridge falls; 
 On iron hinges, ponderously slow, 
 Opens the gateway to the midnight troop; 
 And masked and mail'd, around thee in yon court, 
 High-waird and barricaded, there they stand, 
 : For, LUTHER, lo! thy Patmos greets thee now. 
 
 Deep trance of Night ! a mystic power is thine, 
 That properties creation with a charm 
 Beyond what day-beams, in their brightest glow, 
 
 I Can emanate, whatever the scene may gild. 
 
 | But, oh ! if ever into heart of man 
 The Midnight, like a mute religion sent 
 Her spirit, surely when the captur'd monk 
 Down the dim chambers of the Wartburg paced, 
 Thy genius, then, in solemn glory reign'd ! 
 There, by his window'd turret, lofty bleak 
 And lone, unharm'd in holy peace he mused, 
 The past revolved, and o'er the future pray'd. 
 But there be moments, in this life of ours, 
 Beyond the weak apocalypse of words 
 E'er to unveil ; so charged with secret might, 
 
 j They master with perplexity immense, 
 
 I Or into voiceless sentiment transform 
 
148 
 
 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 Our spirit : like a cloud, we seem to float 
 In formless vacancy, with fruitless gloom 
 Begirt and blinded; till forced nature feels 
 By truth replenished, and distinctive thoughts 
 Rise from the heart, pathetic, soft, profound, 
 Like tears of pity in a good man's eye. 
 Then, all we have been, are, or hope to be, 
 Blends in strange climax; and the soul's o'ersway'd 
 With big emotion, or with breathless prayer. 
 
 All that we HAVE been yes! the night restores: 
 Form after Form we loved, or knew, or fear'd, 
 Moves o'er the platform of the summon'd past; 
 While dead eyes open, and familiar smiles 
 Fall on our hearts; or household voices ring, 
 Till the soul echoes with remember'd tones 
 Sweeter than music in its tranced excess ! 
 And all we are, oh! Night can this expound; 
 And self to self, beyond all preachers show, 
 In truthful plainness ; making conscience start, 
 As sin on sin, which cov'ring daylight hides, 
 From the dim back-ground of our being comes 
 To awe Conception. Then, the future's doom ! 
 Oh, how the spirit of the midnight hush 
 To THAT, significance and shape imparts, 
 As depths of possibility untold 
 Open beneath Imagination's eye, 
 Fearful, and fathomless, and full of God! 
 But, then we rise ourselves beyond; and reach 
 
I 
 
 THE INTERLUDE. 149 
 
 ?he skirts and shadows of a higher state 
 Yet to be mastered. Or, may Thought presume 
 Thus to imagine, that as embryo life 
 lath latent inlets ere the breath begins, 
 Ind dormant senses undeveloped powers, 
 ik), may our SPIRIT in the flesh perceive 
 ?aintly and feebly, some prelusive State, 
 Ind preconceptions of HEREAFTER feel 
 antedate a nobler Life, to come! 
 
 And did not Luther, at this dreaming hour 
 His great heart yeild to more than words depict? 
 Bathed in the ether of divinest calm 
 As there he mused, and from his window'd tower 
 Greeted the heavens, with planets jewell'd bright. 
 A halcyon calm adown the seething depths 
 Of th' vex'd bosom, solemnly was breathed ; 
 While feelings, tinged with supernatural awe, 
 But tender, round him cast their mingled spell. 
 Like sunny gleams, in evanescent play, 
 Glances of truth upon his spirit dart 
 But vanish, ere a syllable can seize 
 Their beauty, or their brillant charms describe. 
 Wordless the hour, but how intense the scene! 
 For never, since in Roman prison clank'd 
 The fetter'd Paul his honourable chain, 
 And haply through his grated window watch'd 
 The arch of midnight, hath a finer Soul 
 Look'd o'er yon sky, than that which gazeth now ! 
 
150 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 Mute as a cloud, the time-worn castle stands 
 Of Wartburg, through the glassy moonlight rear'd 
 In outline black, colossal and abrupt; 
 Beneath him, rapt in motionless array, 
 Thuringa's forest spreads a gloomy wild, 
 Soundless; and, so becalm'd in dewy sleep 
 That e'en the leaflet, when some quiv'ring air 
 Throbs for a moment, like a lip in dreams 
 It vibrates, but no vocal murmur makes. 
 Creation, lock'd in one expressive trance, 
 Comes on the soul overwhelmingly sublime. 
 From the high moon, and melancholy stars 
 Around her, to the stirless grass beneath, 
 How mute is nature, how intensely fill'd 
 With Life, with Meaning, and with sentient Awe ! 
 As if the Earth were conscious that mysterious God 
 Commanded silence, and she felt it rise 
 Deeper and deeper, from creation's heart, 
 And all Things binding with religious spell. 
 
 But now, the glory of this midnight scene 
 Melts through his being; till each spirit-chord 
 Thrills to the magic, with responsive tone: 
 Lo! the large tear-drop on his eyelid hangs 
 And quivers, like a half unspoken prayer 
 That on the balance of expression moves. 
 For GOD, and Truth, and Luther, now commune; 
 And Midnight hearkens, as the monk adores 
 The CHRIST ETERNAL, in his glory sphered 
 

 THE INTERLUDE. 
 
 151 
 
 High o'er the heavens, beyond conception raised, 
 And baffling all things but believing prayer! 
 Which climbs that region where His radiance dwells, 
 And thrills The SAVIOUR on his very throne.* 
 
 * Heb. iv. 15. 
 
SUBLIME of privilege ! to be alone, 
 
 And hold communion with celestial Love 
 
 In the hush'd temple of the hallow'd mind, 
 
 Where thought is worship; and religion wants 
 
 No liturgy, save what the heart inspires. 
 
 In pensive solitude, our God unveils 
 
 Those charms almighty, which the vile scene 
 
 Of this vex'd world is all too vain to prize ; 
 
 Then truth ascends our being's mental throne, 
 
 To rule and regulate the life within; 
 
 While round us shades of an hereafter steal, 
 
 Till awful Conscience, with prophetic eye, 
 
 Rehearses what the Judgment-Day will act, 
 
 When Earth's biography shall be unroll'd 
 
 Under the gaze Eternal, read aloud 
 
 To men and angels! Now, from sense withdrawn, 
 
 The pious Soul at length presumes to gaze 
 
 Down her own deep; and there a grandeur finds 
 
 A depth in depth, unfathomably retired, 
 
 Of consciousness ; which makes her more sublime 
 
 Than all the gorgeousness of glitt'ring worlds! 
 
 A single Mind the universe outweighs; 
 
KPATMOS. 153 
 
 ought than worlds is more stupendous far; 
 And the proud stars, which populate the sky 
 In dazzling multitudes, are less divine 
 Than the pale forehead of some pensive Man 
 Beneath them watching, from whose lifted eye 
 Outshines divinity at ev'ry gaze ! 
 
 And this we learn, because in this we live; 
 When, from the vulgar life of passion freed, 
 Within ourselves we dare at last descend: 
 There truths unsyllabled, our hearts perceive, 
 And dread predictions by no language shaped 
 Thrill through our conscience with majestic force, 
 And hint the being men are doom'd to know. 
 
 But, solitude a softer mood enjoys; 
 The past revives, the tombs of time unlocks, 
 And in the heart's sad resurrection calls 
 The dead to life the dear to love again ! 
 For when this halcyon o'er the spirit broods 
 The chain of life, electrically touch'd, 
 Link after link unwinds, and leads us back 
 From manhood, with its false and fretting cares, 
 To childhood, basking in maternal smiles. 
 Soothed into softness, now the stern can weep ; 
 And sham'd ambition from itself recoils, 
 To think how basely, on the world's false shrine 
 The hopes and aims which Heaven alone can meet 
 Our life hath squandered, with a fruitless zeal. 
 
154 
 
 PATMOS. 
 
 Ye Dreams of virtue ! oft in vice exhaled ; 
 
 Ye Hopes of greatness ! oft in ruin sunk ; 
 
 Ye full- wing' d Energies! which cleaved your flight 
 
 High o'er the vault of young Ambition's heaven; 
 
 REALITY, the stern, the wintry, and the true, 
 
 To airy nought, hath frown'd ye all away! 
 
 Yet, may we profitably mourn; and muse 
 Ourselves to infancy, or faith, again, 
 When Memory, o'er tombs of buried time 
 Bends her pale brow, and placidly recalls 
 The green existence of exulting youth. 
 For what, though blasting disappointment sear'd 
 The buds of promise on the tree of Hope ; 
 Though few have actualized the heart's fond dreams, 
 By manhood reaching what their youth conceived ; 
 Yet, contrast is our teacher; and we know 
 The truth, by trial only as we live; 
 And man who sins, by sufFring must be saved; 
 While God, by disappointment, makes him wise. 
 
 Then, hush'd for aye let all rebellions be; 
 But welcome, Solitude! however drear; 
 And come, Reflection ! with thy charms august ; 
 And Mem'ry ! oft our deeper yearnings wake ; 
 Be to the husband, all the wife appear'd 
 In the chaste beauty of her spousal morn ; 
 Be to the orphan, what the mother was, 
 When by her knee he knelt, a dimpled boy 
 
I 
 
 155 
 
 Lisping his little prayer; or on her breast 
 Pillow'd his head, as if the world were peace : 
 A.ct all within, that life without has been ; 
 And from the grave, where dead and dear ones lie, 
 People our homes with those our hearts revere ! 
 
 And not unlike, in moods of thought intense 
 To this, was that experience, which the soul 
 3f Luther gathered ; when, for ten lone months 
 By friendly capture, in his Patmos hid. 
 Here did he muse, and watch, and weep, and pray, 
 Plunge in himself, and down the mind's abyss 
 Take many a deep and undescribed gaze ; 
 Till Forms of terror, Phantoms of despair, 
 A.nd dread Emotions, meaningless and vast, 
 Throng'd into power, and haunted him like hell. 
 
 Meet was the spot for high- wrought feeling's hour : 
 Within were chambers, long, and large; and roofed 
 With fretted stone- work, dimly worn by years ; 
 Where the glad sunbeam caught a pensive tinge, 
 Smiling like twilight ; and the tread of feet 
 Fell like a sound which ought not there to be ; 
 While from their ancient walls the pale-brow'd dead 
 Looked on the living, as with sad rebuke 
 And silent warning. From the window-niche 
 The eye might witness hills of forest-wood 
 In green confusion, stretching far away 
 Into wild distance ; while to Fancy's ear 
 
156 PATMOS. 
 
 The pleased hosannahs of perpetual birds 
 Made the huge forest musically live. 
 And here, in myst'ry and in mournfulness, 
 Shrined in the solitude of his own soul, 
 How much of Deity did Luther learn ! 
 Ascending oft the mountain-peaks of mind, 
 The Alps of thought, far up the Godhead ranged, 
 To talk with his eternity to come. 
 
 How like a poem must his life have read; 
 Where Fiction's self, by Fact had been surpass'd, 
 When now, by retrospection's quiet gaze 
 Unroird, and re-perused! To boyhood's prime 
 And young experience, when the miner's cot 
 Roofed his sad hours of struggle, and of sin, 
 Down the strange past, through all that Mine 
 
 endured, 
 
 Dark Conscience felt, or prescient Fancy dream'd, 
 Remembrance flew; and now, in castled pomp 
 Behold him exiled! far from Rome's dread eye, 
 That glared with hunger for his mangled form. 
 And well might he, when thus the Past renew'd, 
 The Present acted, and the Future brought 
 A thrilling influence into vivid play, 
 Of cold Reality lose sight and sound ; 
 Till, by intensity transform'd, and fired, 
 Wild UNREALITIES around him throng'd, 
 And PHANTOMS, which derision loves to rnock, 
 Fever'd his life with supernat'ral force, 
 

 PATMOS. 157 
 
 Till matter's self the form of mind assumed, 
 And feeling suffered all that fancy shaped. 
 
 From hot excitement, to the heavy calm 
 Of this weird solitude at once transposed, 
 Who wonders that reaction, like a curse 
 Besieged him; or, with arid weight o'erhung 
 The beatings of his fine and free-born heart ? 
 Till, in the blank and barren waste of things 
 He sank, and melted into mindless tears; 
 Or sighed, as if the very soul was worn 
 And weaken'd down to senselessness, and shame. 
 Oh! there were moments, when a fiendish gloom, 
 A lurid darkness not of earth begot, 
 Enwrapt him like a shrouding agony, 
 A stifled pain, a suffocating pang, 
 A grief benumbing with torpedo touch 
 All the warm currents of the healthy blood, 
 Till life itself one long compunction grew ! 
 Thus did he suffer; till the brain o'erboil'd 
 With feeling, and his soul was set on fire; 
 And then, rebukes from some sarcastic fiend 
 Would ring around him, with disdainful tone, 
 To mock the little, and to make it less, 
 Of all that He and Truth together did 
 When back recoil'd from their sublime assault 
 Popedom and Pope, with all their banded powers !- 
 Nor let the bond-slave of the senses laugh, 
 Why Luther in such whirling gloom believed 
 
158 PATMOS. 
 
 That ghastly Mockers, bodiless and black, 
 
 On soundless wing, and immaterial tread, 
 
 Inaudibly around him came; and cursed. 
 
 And grinn'd in all the ghastliness of hell, 
 
 To shake his spirit from that throne of trust, 
 
 The word almighty! Yes, when rolling storms 
 
 Yeird in loud rage; or night- wing'd tempests burst, 
 
 And howl'd along the wind-rock'd battlements 
 
 Of Wartburg, oft did spectral Forms appear 
 
 Shading the room with imagery of life 
 
 And motion; mutt'ring Fiends his couch besieged, 
 
 Till Luther shudder'd out his soul in prayer! 
 
 But e'en by day, when black depression came, 
 
 And, like the night-mare of the mind, o'erhung 
 
 All faith and reason, in one fell attack, 
 
 No flaming death his flesh could so appal 
 
 As this dark anguish did the blood, o'erpower: 
 
 The pang, without the peace, of death was there ! 
 
 But, like an eagle from his chain unloosed 
 Darting aloft to his blue home of skies 
 And sunshine, soon his panting soul escaped 
 From this foul bondage, into purer life. 
 He pray'd, and open'd heaven itself by prayer; 
 Attracting downward some responsive grace 
 Or balm, which heal'd him like the hand of God. 
 Or haply music, (like the lyre of old 
 Tuned into magic by the sweeping touch 
 Of David, when he charm'd the fiend from Saul,) 
 
PATMOS. 159 
 
 Besoothed the spirit; till o'er all his frame 
 i A lulling softness exquisitely crept, 
 And he was cradled in the charm of sound. 
 
 His exile now no barren rock became, 
 I Where thought must wither into wintry blight ; 
 i But rather, grew a bower of mental peace, 
 
 An isle of calm, amid the sea of life, 
 ' " 
 
 I A Patmos, where the harbour'd soul retired 
 From earth's loud shock, to feel the hush of heaven. 
 Soon, like a giant from his sleep refreshed, 
 Up rose the great Reformer! and awoke 
 The drooping thousands, whose dejected hearts 
 
 I Pined for one accent of his cheering lips. 
 
 I But, how he wrought, and with what noble bursts 
 And outbreaks high of eloquence, and truth 
 
 I He pour'd his spirit over Man, and Mind, 
 
 i Creation's journal can alone disclose. 
 For souls like Luther's multiply and make 
 
 | More change within, and character without, 
 Than dull chronology can e'er depict. 
 
 | Down to the roots of conscience dived his words 
 With daring energy, and drew to light 
 Those hidden workings, and the dark unrest 
 Which haunt our being : or, on guilt and gloom 
 
 I His flashing arrows of conviction fell, 
 Cleaving the soul to penitence, and prayers. 
 Through all the provinces of mind he stray'd 
 
1 60 PATHOS. 
 
 On bold excursion's theologic wing, 
 
 And wafted light where'er his gospel came. 
 
 But, in thy castle, Wartburg, chief o'er all 
 The monuments which mind up-builded there, 
 Let grateful rev'rence long that work admire, 
 O'er which a seraph's wings might shake with joy, 
 By Luther, with colossal power, achieved. 
 There, was the WORD ALMIGHTY, from the grave 
 Of ancient language, into modern life 
 Summon'd, in sainted glory to arise, 
 And speak to souls what souls could understand. 
 Oh! to have seen him, in the toil august, 
 Lifting to heaven his meditative eyes 
 Radiant with wonder, as the deeps of Truth 
 Eternal gave their hoary secrets up, 
 When God's own language into Luther's pass'd 
 With prompt transition; till, behold! the grace 
 Of Jesus out of classic fetters came, 
 And, like its AUTHOR, to the poor man preach'd! 
 Noble, beyond nobility to match, 
 Hero of mind ! was thine achievement here : 
 To free the BIBLE, was to throne thy GOD 
 Firm on the conscience of adoring man ; 
 And so, by this supremacy divine 
 To limit tyrants, should they dare profane 
 That seat of awe, where none but Godhead rei 
 
 But, intervals there came of lovely calm ; 
 
PATMOS. 161 
 
 Mild as the languish of a summer eve 
 Around the poet, by some dream entranced, 
 When nature, like a conscious MEANING, acts, 
 And through cold matter preaches grace to mind. 
 For, is not earth an hieroglyphic vast, 
 From the low insect, to the lofty star, 
 Where science spells God's everlasting Name? 
 I But, in the flower, the leaflet, and the bud, 
 How much of deity we cannot grasp ! 
 How much of paradox to make us pause ! 
 Nature herself seems Athanasian oft ; 
 i In creed as difficult, in terms as dark 
 j As aught theology can preach, or frame. 
 Then, student of the Spirit ! walk with fear 
 The halls of nature ; nor, with pagan eye 
 The meanest of Her solitudes and shrines 
 Inspect thou : ministries of mind are there ; 
 And, more that mere philosophy forebodes 
 Fills the fine atom that a step destroys. 
 Angels and Spirits may unseen preside 
 And, nature's beauty be a seraph's work; 
 Behind the VEIL which meets our sensual view 
 Myriads of POWERS may ply Their noiseless hands, 
 And each live function of this breathing earth, 
 Serve but to type a ministry unknown. 
 
 And, not ungenial to that high-toned mood 
 When feeling soars, and poetry is born, 
 In sun and silence 'Luther wander'd forth ; 
 
162 PATMOS. 
 
 Perusing earth, or reading air and sky 
 
 As one great manuscript, where God had penn'd 
 
 Some letter d outlines of His secret NAME. 
 
 For, though creation felt the curse's fang, 
 
 And beauty from the beautiful hath fled, 
 
 And glory from the glorious, still, the wreck 
 
 Is haunted with magnificence, and might; 
 
 Making the universe a temple seem, 
 
 Whose priestess is the God-revealing soul 
 
 Of man ; which spells HIM out in earth and heaven, 
 
 Or, in the stars, those capitals of light, 
 
 Jehovah's .IMPRIMATUR in the skies ! 
 
 
 And deep the hour, delicious was the calm 
 When Luther, in some dream, would oft accost 
 The speaking loveliness of fruits and flowers 
 Around him scattered, o'er the castled hill. 
 To him they were most eloquently touch'd 
 With beauty ; orphans of dead paradise 
 That smiled upon him with a mournful grace; 
 . Till hues and harmonies of Eden throng'd 
 In sweetest union, round his prayerful mind : 
 While faith, by rapt imagination rais'd, 
 Already for that rich millenium pin'd, 
 Which God hath promised, and His poets sung; 
 When spousal Earth her bridegroom Lord shall greet 
 Returning, on creation's throne to reign, 
 While ev'ry atom of this world redeem'd 
 Blooms in His breath, and sparkles by His smile. 
 

 PATHOS. 163 
 
 it, Nature hath her sad and silent moods, 
 Her solemn counterparts to serious man. 
 And oft, at sunset, when pale autumn sigh'd 
 Like a lone spirit, wailing through the woods 
 Of Wartburg, Luther mourn'd 'mid falling leaves 
 And flowers dejected, till the dew-fall 'gan 
 To glisten round him; and, his boding mind 
 Took from the season types of sadd'ning power. 
 And thus, at midnight, when the Moon array'd 
 The inspiration of her pallid beam 
 O'er plain and mountain, from his harrow'd sleep 
 The exile rose; and, through the window-grate 
 Of his high turret, o'er the dew- white fields 
 And cold earth, sluimVring in the glassy air, 
 Gazed in tranc'd thought, through many a tongueless 
 
 hour; 
 
 Or, rapt in dreams, the glowing heavens beheld, 
 That scripture bright, whose syllables are stars! 
 And, from those orbs, oracularly bright, 
 Drew meanings holy, intimations high, 
 And truths beyond astronomy to preach: 
 For in yon worlds, by POWER UNSEEN upheld, 
 There shined a symbol of the church secured, 
 In mercy shielded, yet by myst'ry saved. 
 
 
CTrfefs. 
 
 THE saints of thought, the seraphim of mind, 
 
 The sole archangels of our sinful world 
 
 Who make, or magnify the page they fill 
 
 With moral prowess, what colossal pangs 
 
 Were theirs, and, what fierce martyrdom they faced 
 
 In bringing forth those Promethean fires 
 
 Which lighten cent'ries, with their living ray! 
 
 But, never yet hath mind had monuments, 
 
 Whose sculptured immortalities of praise 
 
 Could half reveal, what lion hearts have braved 
 
 In the great agony of being great ! 
 
 For what, though hist'ry weave its laureate words 
 
 Around some trophy of consummate toil ; 
 
 Or, chant the glory of those giant thoughts 
 
 Which grasp'd all ages, with redeeming force ; 
 
 Result is praised, but not the process told, 
 
 Nor the deep racking of those downcast hours 
 
 When darkness, like a fiendish nightmare, sat 
 
 Heavy upon them; till the gasping soul 
 
 Grew effortless, as if by doubt struck dumb; 
 
 While truths, that once like inspiration nerved 
 
THE CRISIS. 165 
 
 The heart for battle, e'en to blood and flame, 
 Melt into nought, by spiritless eclipse. 
 
 But, when have earth's high benefactors felt 
 That martyrdom, beyond all fires to make ? 
 Not when the clash and combat fiercely rang 
 Around them; or the world its weapons drew 
 To daunt their progress or dispel their aims; 
 For then, that eagle of unstooping mind, 
 Young energy ! did lift itself for flight, 
 And mounted bravely through the blackest cloud, 
 Cleaving all tempest with unbaffled wing. 
 Danger and death were talismanic sounds, 
 Which from the heart drew forth a secret fire : 
 Effort was theirs ; and mastery sublime 
 O'er scene and circumstance their faith evinced ; < 
 Till, lo ! the perilled cause in safety smiles, 
 And hist'ry for its coronation waits. 
 
 But, in the gladness and the glow immense, 
 When hope's millennium seems at last to bloom; 
 When the calm jubilee of conscience rings, 
 And principle its heaven-toned paean tunes 
 For truth and triumph, then, while good men pray, 
 And great ones in a hush of wonder, pause ; 
 If, in such hour of golden promise, all 
 Fades into formless vanity, or vice, 
 And fell Reverse a sudden ruin frown, 
 ! the heroes of the heart are left 
 
 - 
 
166 THE CRISIS. 
 
 Unpraised, unsooth'd, unlaurell'd, and unsung, 
 The rack of racks alone to face, and feel, 
 When Virtue's cause a suicide becomes 
 And stabs itself to impotence, and shame ! 
 
 But, such the crisis, that with sudden might 
 And sweeping darkness, round great Luther's soul 
 Came, in the very noon of noble hopes, 
 When the calm future cloudlessly began 
 To open, and in peace and prayer to reign. 
 Height after height victoriously was scaled 
 Of priestly bulwarks, and papistic lies ; 
 The Bible, into living freedom loosed, 
 From cot to palace circulated God; 
 The majesties of buried mind began, 
 (Clothed in the radiance of regen'rate power) 
 The grave-clothes of the monk to throw away : 
 While, chief o'er all, that Mammon of the priest 
 The aping MASS, where bleeding Christ is mock'd 
 And flour burlesques the BODY of the LORD, 
 Was banish'd; and THE CHRIST in truth began 
 As Lord of conscience, from all hearts to hurl 
 That crown'd Melchisedek, whom Rome anoints 
 Both head and front of Christendom to be ! 
 
 When, lo, at once the anarchy of change ! 
 And Luther, palsied as by dread alarm, 
 Around him hears fanatic Madness yell, 
 And, the hot Ate of excited hearts 
 
THE CRISIS. 167 
 
 Through flame and fury to rebellion sweep. 
 
 And now, the Pang! the concentrated pang, 
 
 The dire and dark, expressionless and deep, 
 
 Heaved in no sigh and by no tear pourtray'd, 
 
 Sank on his soul with adamantine crush. 
 
 For all seem'd ruin, and revulsion now : 
 
 While leagued rebellion, with its brazen throat, 
 
 Its blasting eye-glance, and its bloody mien, 
 
 And mingling yells all murderously loud, 
 
 From the black forest of Thuringa raved ; 
 
 While HE HIMSELF the incarnation look'd 
 
 In principle, of all perversion did, 
 
 That madness loved, or murder long'd to do ! 
 
 The people cursed him, for he cursed their cause, 
 
 And caird rebellion but the child of hell. 
 
 The princes cursed him, for the yoke of Rome 
 
 His arm had broken from the nation's mind. 
 
 Bereft, in solitude of soul unsoothed, 
 
 A Ruin among ruins, thus he stood 
 
 With heart all bleeding, and with spirit bare, 
 
 One living agony of gloom, and tears. 
 
 And well might Luther, like his MASTER, feel 
 
 Desertion, in that night of nights profound ! 
 
 For Heaven's own cause fanatically lay 
 
 Trampled, and torn beneath a hoof of lies, 
 
 When Munzer and his host by hell inflamed, 
 
 Shouted, "THE SPIRIT!" and to blood blasphemed 
 
 Both God and Bible, with insanest breath ! 
 
 Each to himself a Holy Ghost became, 
 
168 THE CRISIS. 
 
 And all his madness to th' Almighty gave. 
 
 Reason was drunk ; and stifled conscience gasp'd ; * 
 
 And HE, who was on earth th' embodied Type 
 
 Of holy Order, and consummate Law, 
 
 Both first of Subjects and the first of Kings, 
 
 Upon the banners of rebellion found 
 
 His Cross, a symbol of all madness made! 
 
 E'en common feeling from the roots was torn; 
 
 Till all affections, motherly and mild, 
 
 Which form sweet nature's consecrated spring, 
 
 (Nile of the heart ! whose undiscover'd source 
 
 Deep in the bosom of the Godhead lies) 
 
 Were parch'd to nothing, in that burning waste; 
 
 When heroes (for the HOLY GHOST mistook) 
 
 Mangled her thousands, by a hellish creed, 
 
 And christened MURDER with the name of CHRIST ! 
 
 "But fear thou not!" a VOICE within him cries; 
 " Forward ! for I am with thee, man of God ! 
 On to the rescue of My Truth ! and fight 
 With weapons all resistless as divine/' 
 And forward went He; with a burst of faith 
 Truth from his cloud of black dejection breaks, 
 And Luther is Himself, in soul, again! 
 While hope (that rainbow of the weeping mind, 
 The Iris out of tears of passion wove) 
 Smiles through the sunshine of prophetic calm, 
 And his heart palpitates with silent prayer. 
 
JWtntal Insurrection. 
 
 IUE liberty, O GOD! thy Spirit makes; 
 For the vast doctrine of redeeming LOVE, 
 Holds in itself, the majesties of man. 
 Freedom and faith our twin inspirers are, 
 The healthful source from which our greatness springs. 
 All fine immunities of sense and soul, 
 All deeper actings of divinest thought, 
 All morals, motives, aims, and bold designs, 
 And aspirations for the GOOD unseen, 
 In the pure conscience find their perfect root. 
 For liberty within, forms light without, 
 And grace, the spirit of salvation is. 
 Whatever of polity great freedom lauds, 
 Whatever of life domestic love reveres, 
 Whatever of mind heroic wisdom haunts f 
 Or, in the temple of essential truth 
 Whatever there, inviolably pure 
 "The adorations of deep conscience find, 
 From grace in principle, (that teeming germ !) 
 By moral efflux have directly flow'd. 
 
 
 
 e reformation thus the MIND redeemed; 
 
170 MENTAL RESURRECTION. 
 
 The swathing-bands that superstition cast 
 
 Round the chain'd spirit, were at once dissolved; 
 
 And, lo ! a mental resurrection smiled : 
 
 A golden dawn of intellectual day 
 
 Already round the clear'd horizon glanced, 
 
 And faintly shined on Europe's rising heart. 
 
 See Luther and Melancthon all on fire, 
 
 Ardent as eagles, in their sunward flight, 
 
 From truth to truth victoriously advance! 
 
 Instead of masses, mark the Holy Feast, 
 
 The mystic Supper of our mighty LORD, 
 
 Dispensed with beauty, primitive and plain. 
 
 The VISIBLE its hallow'd claim advanced, 
 
 And IDEALITY a form assumed; 
 
 While the young Church Her pristine features wore 
 
 Thus rites external, for external sense, 
 
 And truths internal, for internal soul, 
 
 Adaptingly the wants of nature met ; 
 
 And symmetries, and symbols duly ranged, 
 
 Humanity in complex- whole employed. 
 
 So CHRIST was GOD in personating Flesh 
 
 Array'd, an INFINITE in Finite robed: 
 
 For, mere abstractions angels may perceive, 
 
 But men embodied must by forms be led, 
 
 And rites are reasons, when by God approved. 
 
 But, not o'er temple-rites alone was breathed 
 That order, Principle divinely brings; 
 But, through the heart, by reformation clear'd 
 
MENTAL RESURRECTION. 171 
 
 From papal mist, the common inind was touched, 
 
 And the pure founts of intellect unseal'd. 
 
 From lofty plans, see Education stoop 
 
 To ply the humblest with her lesson'd skill; 
 
 While cloistered Learning, from her cells escaped, 
 
 Comes to the peasant's home, the people's heart; 
 
 Till mind is no monopoly for priests, 
 
 And classic thought in sacerdotal rust 
 
 No more lies withering; but, at Luther's word, 
 
 Walks through the world of feeling, and of faith. 
 
 And ye, the symbols of our inner sense, 
 
 Types of the Beautiful, we cannot reach ; 
 
 Ye adumbrations, of diviner grace 
 
 Than ever seen, when most Invention cries 
 
 Her glad EUREKA ! round enraptured souls ; 
 
 Ye Arts! which make Imagination's heaven, 
 
 By shape, or hue, or melody revealed, 
 
 Ye also, from the reformation caught 
 
 A new intensity of grace, and power. 
 
 For music rose, seraphically deep, 
 
 And revelled in a paradise of sound, 
 
 To hymn the PRINCE of Glory, and of peace ; 
 
 And Painting, from Apostles imaged forth 
 
 Forms of fair virtue, in sublimest mould : 
 
 And thus, the hunger of the seeking mind 
 
 On scripture banqueted, in blissful ease ; 
 
 While piety and painting blent their powers, 
 
 Taking a cast from beauty's very soul, 
 
 In lines of love, and lineaments of heaven. 
 
172 MENTAL RESURRECTION. 
 
 And She, the empress of our glowing moods, 
 
 Enchantress mild of melancholy hours, 
 
 High Poetry, the heart's young priestess, came ; 
 
 And, on the altar of melodious hours 
 
 Laid the soft incense of devoutest song. 
 
 And thus, amid the harmony of things, 
 Awhile, as on the brink of heaven restored, 
 Rejoiced the grateful Luther. Who can tell 
 The Promised Land of hope's perpetual dream 
 How greenly bright before him, then it smiled ! 
 The passion and the principle of song, 
 With full intensity his being fired : 
 'Twas thus, the poetry of peace and joy 
 Each fine pulsation of his nature thrilled ; 
 And all without, from life internal, took 
 Some answering tone of sympathetic love. 
 Through walks, and woods of Wittemberg he roam'd; 
 Or, gave his spirit to the mountain-breeze; 
 And, in the carol of rejoicing streams, 
 The leafy warble of the forest boughs, 
 Or, lyric echoes of the laughing wave, 
 In sound, and scene, and all which nature show'd,- 
 A charm responsive to himself he found. 
 Nature and man in fine accordance met; 
 Their smiles and tones reciprocally play'd ; 
 Her forms of matter, to his shaping mind 
 Embodied meaning; and a moral grace 
 From all Her symmetries appeared to flow. 
 
MENTAL RESURRECTION. 173 
 
 Now was the halcyon of the heart ; awhile 
 Bosom'd in peace, the bright-soul'd monk was blest. 
 The past was praise, for all that viet'ry won ; 
 The present prayer for all that mercy gives; 
 And o'er the future his prophetic heart 
 Glow'd with entrancement, as Isaiah did 
 When his lyre trembled with exulting tones 
 Millennial, over crown'd MESSIAH'S reign : 
 Till oft, in rapt imagination's dream, 
 Amid the universe of happy worlds, 
 This earth appear'd creation's loved St. John, 
 Safe on the bosom of redemption's LORD, 
 Reclining there in glory, and in rest. 
 
 And, like th' apostle of the church reform'd 
 Who has not, in the harmony and heaven 
 Of some high mood of meditative calm, 
 (As opes the flower its scented breast of bloom 
 To welcome in each beautifying ray,) 
 Opened his spirit with expanding joy 
 To nature, in her eloquence of scene, 
 As if to CONSCIOUSNESS, he then appealed ? 
 Till all Creation grew personified, 
 And the touch'd earth (to fancy's tender dream) 
 His living counterpart of joy became! 
 
 As through some harp, most exquisitely strung, 
 The vulgar breeze to music's voice is turn'd 
 When o'er its chords the airy tremor floats, 
 
174 MENTAL RESURRECTION. 
 
 By subtile magic; so, to mind intense, 
 
 The coarse realities of sense and time 
 
 Change, as they touch the intellectual powers, 
 
 To meanings beautiful, and mental types ; 
 
 The prose of earth to poetry of heaven 
 
 Is thus transformed, for faith's perusal then; 
 
 And, oh ! ye scenes, ye splendours, and ye sounds, 
 
 Like inspirations, lo! at once ye act: 
 
 All hidden sacraments of earth, and air, 
 
 All signs and symbols of redeeming grace 
 
 Steal into view with eloquent surprise! 
 
 Till the charm'd eye of sainted thought conceives 
 
 The dust to overflow with Deity; 
 
 While all things, into sacredness refin'd, 
 
 Make parables, to hint redemption's plan. 
 
 Thrice happy they, who thus by heav'n empowered, 
 Can find a scripture in the flowers, and leaves ! 
 Creation's book then fancy's bible forms; 
 And faith poetic, by the Spirit led, 
 All nature calls a comment on the Cross. 
 In this let holy Love our teacher be! 
 A love perpetual, for in that supreme, 
 The sabbath's God Himself no sabbath keeps. 
 And then, what great proprietors we are ! 
 E'en on His throne THE UNCREATE is ours, 
 By covenant, from everlasting made ; 
 And under it, entire creation works 
 For good and glory, to the church redeem'd. 
 
MENTAL RESURRECTION. 175 
 
 Many have much, but all desire a more; 
 
 But less than Infinite, to man is nought : 
 
 The MORE must be almighty, or 'tis none ! 
 
 But who hath Christ, has God by God bestow'd, 
 
 And dread eternity becomes his friend. 
 
 Then still, thou sun! EMMANUEL'S image be, 
 
 And like a shadow of His glory burn ; 
 
 Thou moon! his mystic bride on earth, reflect; 
 
 Planets ! that with prophetic radiance gleam ; 
 
 Thou paragon of elemental powers, 
 
 Myst'ry of waters, never-slumb'ring sea ! 
 
 Impassioned orator! with lip sublime, 
 
 Whose waves are arguments, which prove a God; 
 
 Ye woods! that with tempestuous anthems ring; 
 
 Ye winds! whose hallelujahs tongue the storm 
 
 With music's deep magnificence of tone ; 
 
 Ye mountain-altars! which from earth to heaven 
 
 Serenely lift your consecrated brows, 
 
 While the soft grandeur of the silent hills 
 Sinks on the heart, like music low and sad; 
 Long in your magic each and all abide, 
 Some teaching mystery of Christ to show. 
 That so, in all things, with an eye of praise 
 And heart of prayer, true faith may ever find 
 In nature, as in grace, her God expressed; 
 And, in the temple of creation greet 
 Those solemn glories which His Name enshrine. 
 
Affections 65 t&e Srutfi mate Jfree. 
 
 IF ever, since the pulse of feeling play'd 
 
 In the quick breast of God-created man, 
 
 Companionless, in isolation pure 
 
 Our Being well and wisely might have stood, 
 
 'Twas, when creation heard him crown'd 
 
 Her living monarch; while the lyric stars 
 
 Chanted a birth-day ode, and angels lined 
 
 The silver battlements of heaven above, 
 
 To see a masterpiece of human mould 
 
 Divinely radiant, out of dust evoked, 
 
 And stamp'd with spirit from the hand of God. 
 
 Then was the hour, if ever such might dawn, 
 
 When echoless a mortal heart might throb 
 
 And still be happy, in itself complete, 
 
 By woman's smile un welcomed, and unwed. 
 
 But, not when paradise within made peace, 
 
 And paradise without responsive joy, 
 
 Was human loneliness by Heaven approved: 
 
 " It was not good that man should be alone." 
 
 And thus, the female COUNTERPART was framed, 
 
 In oneness sacramentally profound,* 
 

 THE AFFECTIONS ETC. 177 
 
 From his own being moulded, and educed; 
 And WOMAN thus to Adam's bower was brought; 
 There, the first marriage, by almighty hands 
 In stainless Eden, was performed and seal'd. 
 As the first miracle MESSIAH work'd . 
 To wedlock gave the glory of its power : 
 So, life monastic came from man alone; 
 But life domestic is from God derived. 
 
 But she, the murd'ress of emotions pure, 
 The vile creatress of mistaken good; 
 Both law and love in nature contravened; 
 And dared, with hand of sacreligious force, 
 From the fine bosom where soft feeling dwells, 
 Expunge all instinct, and the soul uproot; 
 To plant, and place it in a coarser soil 
 Blighted and bare, with chills unmanly cursed. 
 But, Nature proved an unmonastic thing! 
 And when in light the monk of God arose 
 To stay the famine of the soul for truth, 
 The HEART was hungering for the food of love. 
 Pining, and pent, in passionless remorse 
 It wither'd, by a tort'ring fetter bound 
 To vow itself to suicidal gloom. 
 Yet, few had fester'd in o'er-righteous chains : 
 Though canons frown'd, and convent law decreed 
 Death to the Heart by female Heart enticed ; 
 Till thus, in self-revenge, the blood o'erboil'd 
 In fires of feeling, ruffian passion raged ; 
 
178 THE AFFECTIONS BY 
 
 And homes, which might have been like heavens ( 
 
 bliss, 
 
 Had holy wedlock lit the vestal flame, 
 Grew hells impure, unmentionably vile, 
 Where powers of darkness turned to priests of lust, 
 And Satan saw himself by Rome outdone ! 
 
 But he, who brought the buried scripture forth 
 From tombs of silence, and monastic death, 
 The bright restorer of domestic bliss 
 At length, with dreadless vigour dares to be. 
 Affections are the food of hearts that feel; 
 For such pined Luther; and in Ketha met, 
 Fresh in her maidenhood of life and love, 
 That feeling sympathy fond nature sought. 
 For what, though all around grew black and drear, 
 And the wild echoes of the peasant war 
 Rang loud in Europe's ear; while reeked the bio 
 Of thousands, on Thuringa's hoof- worn plain : 
 Yet, did the WORD about him cast a shield, 
 While o'er him hung the canopy of heaven. 
 The God of marriage was the God of man : 
 Here, on this rock, the thunder-blasts of Rome 
 Sank powerless, as the lisp of summer winds ! 
 And then, though man and fiend together scoffd, 
 Better by far that flesh and blood should quail ; 
 Or, all creation be annulFd in gloom, 
 Than ONE majestic truth of God be harm'd ! 
 In heresy our God Himself we lose ; 
 
THE TRUTH MADE FREE. 179 
 
 And the big Universe a bubble seems, 
 Weigh'd in the balance of a single word 
 Dropt from the lips of an almighty LOVE ! 
 But That was with him; sealing woman's love 
 As heavenly-bright, and by the Saviour blest : 
 And therefore not by this the cause sublime 
 Was perill'd; nor the reformation's ark 
 In danger, when the monk of Wittemberg 
 Rose, in the freedom of a fervid soul, 
 To rive the fetters of monastic vows 
 Asunder, from his God-deli ver'd mind; 
 And, lifting his pure conscience in the light 
 Of scripture, up to majesty and truth, 
 Shined on the world, a Husband not ashamed! 
 
 And round that scene, where his devoted heart 
 The wedded Luther to his Ketha gave, 
 Eternal wisdom cast approving smiles, 
 And heaven its hymeneal blessings shed. 
 For then, was PRIVATE LIFE from priestly lust 
 'Deliver'd, peace conjugal back restored, 
 And wedlock, in its sainted charm enshrined; 
 While Rome, another and a ruder shock 
 Experienced, from the soul of Luther sent; 
 For now, affections, nerved with sudden life, 
 Together with deep principle combined; 
 Till, both concentered, back to nature gave 
 A creed which conscience could avow and act; 
 To guide the faith, to guard emotion pure, 
 
180 THE AFFECTIONS BY 
 
 And brighten homes with honourable love, 
 Where prison'd feeling, passionless and pale 
 Languished alone; or, lewd corruption came 
 To look the angel, with a demon's heart ! 
 
 And thus, within the haven of a home 
 Luther at length his care-toss'd spirit found, 
 Anchored in peace, and matrimonial joy 
 Secure. And where do Love's fond annals tell 
 A home of heart, more exquisite than his ? 
 The once cowl'd monk, (who trod the cloister's dim, 
 And made his melancholy footsteps ring 
 With cadence long and lone,) was now become 
 A glowing husband, and a gladden'd sire. 
 And lovely was it, when his mind, unrobed 
 Of all its panoply of public state, 
 Reposed in sunshine, and, at home retired, 
 Sparkled and play'd around his infant boy; 
 Or else, in laughing sweetness echo'd back 
 The tones of glee, and truths of gay delight 
 Which Ketha, from her sunbright bosom, sent; 
 Or, look'd applause, to see his portrait rise, 
 Under the magic of embroidering art 
 Featured and form'd! And so, when sombre night 
 Mantled his dwelling with sabbatic peace, 
 Seldom have angels, as they waft their flight 
 From home to home, on voiceless errands wing'd, 
 A fairer landscape of domestic love 
 And life beheld, than Martin Luther made 
 

 THE TRUTH MADE FREE. 181 
 
 Around him, with his wife and infant smile: 
 Nor, haply, upon heaven's memorial page 
 The meek hosannahs of more thankful minds 
 Have they recorded, than the chants they heard, 
 When sang the great restorer of the Truth 
 Hymns of the heart, around his household shrine. 
 
 A monk was married ! How the priesthood raved ! 
 But God was with him; and His word approved 
 A deed that shook all Popedom to the base, 
 The convents oped, the Vatican alarm'd, 
 And push'd the world, by matrimonial law, 
 A cent'ry forward, into fearless paths 
 Of light, of liberty, and spousal love ! 
 All scripture canonized the act: but Powers 
 In nature also, with approval smiled; 
 For imaged wedlock, in the vital bonds, 
 The unions pure, the harmonies profound, 
 The loving sense and sympathy of things, 
 His Fancy by poetic vision, saw. 
 
 And let the hard utilitarian smile; 
 Whose creed is chiefly by the palate form'd, 
 Building religion on a sensual base 
 For ever, thanks to minds of heavenly mould, 
 A faith there is, which, like to Luther's, loves 
 The adumbrations of a deeper life 
 Beyond the sense, in matter's self to trace. 
 R 
 
182 THE AFFECTIONS BY 
 
 CHRIST AND His CHURCH; for these the world was 
 
 framed; 
 
 And thus to them, with eye divine endow 'd 
 The SPIRIT'S KINGDOM on this earth to see, 
 Creation teems with poetry for Christ, 
 By forms of matter unto faith reveal'd. 
 All pangs, all pleasures, faculties, and powers, 
 The souls of God's elected race can find 
 Or feel, or suffer, may from nature draw 
 Tones of respect, and touches of regard, 
 And something that resembles sympathy. 
 
 Nor, let the worshippers of clay alone, 
 Pronounce this pure Imagination's dream; 
 For haply, thus the myst'ry may unwind, 
 And what the poet sings, the saint admire. 
 When this fair world to conscious being rose 
 With beauty eloquently garb'd, and bright, 
 Why were her forms, her symmetries, and scenes, 
 Touch'd by a spell that can evisage mind, 
 And, like a glassing metaphor, reflect 
 An image dim, but exquisitely deep, 
 Of much our mental universe combines ? 
 The forms of nature with the facts of grace, 
 Why do they so responsively apply, 
 That each with each, in harmony coheres? 
 Or, in that region where the feelings dwell, 
 Why does our spirit from the sounds and scenes 
 
THE TRUTH MADE FREE. 183 
 
 Of nature, catch a mute intelligence, 
 
 As if with consciousness of Man and Mind 
 
 The speaking magic of her aspect smil'd ? 
 
 The festive jubilee of summer winds, 
 
 The soothing descant of a far-off sea, 
 
 The storm's loud wail, the ocean's sullen roar, 
 
 Noon with its sun and midnight with the stars, 
 
 The Spring, with her sweet family of flowers, 
 
 Or widow'd Autumn, with consumptive leaves, 
 
 And pale -faced Winter with a frozen vest, 
 
 Why do they all, intelligibly bring 
 
 Hints to the heart, and harmonies for mind? 
 
 Is this reply, which all creation gives 
 
 To mortal feeling, but the fancy's mock ? 
 
 Or, is not earth a PARABLE DIVINE? 
 
 And poets, when their witching eyes discern 
 
 Meanings that flow from matter into mind, 
 
 Priests of THE SPIRIT, in creation are? 
 
 For THOU, O CHRIST ! art universal KING : 
 
 By Thee, and for Thee, were not all things made ; 
 
 So, when the SPIRIT on the mass new-born 
 
 Of nature brooded, then, with mystic SEAL, 
 
 All matter, for THY Glory, was impress'd 
 
 With types peculiar, with expressive laws; 
 
 Thy church to show, thy symbols to expound, 
 
 And thus preach GOSPEL to our very sense; 
 
 Till Nature acts the orator for Grace, 
 
 And all creation 's one gigantic type 
 
 For Christ, and Christianity arranged. 
 
184 THE AFFECTIONS BY 
 
 And such the creed imagination holds, 
 When the proud beauties of this earth appear 
 But shadows, from the Saviour's glory cast. 
 And seldom hath th' electric blood of man 
 Rippled with sense more rapturously keen 
 Of BEAUTY, than did Luther's, when he pour'd 
 High feeling out, with passionate excess 
 Of sympathy, for all that lived, or look'd 
 Into his heart with nature's eye of love ! 
 But moods of preternat'ral calm there came, 
 With might of thought, and majesty of dreams 
 And a deep awe beyond all words to voice, 
 Under the mute and melancholy heavens 
 As oft he worshipped, in his window-shade 
 At starry moonlight. Then, th' unpillarM vault, 
 By viewless ENERGY for aye upheld, 
 Harangued him, like a holy sign, which spake 
 How like that arch of glory God sustains 
 The church elect, by bleeding merit won. 
 Or, when the moon through some black cloud i 
 
 emerged, 
 
 In radiant vict'ry from a brief eclipse, 
 To him a symbol of refulgent grace 
 It shined, of how the reformation's cause 
 From the fell darkness of imperial frowns 
 At length would glide to glory, and to peace. 
 
 Yet, not from nature, solitude, or night, 
 Nor wedded life, with all its household sweets, 
 
THE TRUTH MADE FREE. 185 
 
 Its sober quiet, and its sterling joys, 
 
 A force to grapple with infernal Arms, 
 
 Wisdom to guard, or prudence to restrain 
 
 The lawless plunges of impassioned will, 
 
 The brave reformer drew: below the skies 
 
 There dwelt no Charm which could have moulded 
 
 Him: 
 
 From ONE high source both cause and courage sprang, 
 And that, divine! from spirit-breathing prayer, 
 Hour after hour communing with his God. 
 
 He loved the bible, and he lived it, too; 
 Till each bright promise to experience turn'd 
 By faith transmuted, or by love enjoy'd. 
 The source of Luther was a strength of PRAYER ; 
 Frequent, and full, and fervidly inspired, 
 As oft the castled gloom of Cobourg heard. 
 Though loud the reformation's battle grew, 
 And empires, as with moral earthquake heaved, 
 Throned wafe his spirit in elysian calm ! 
 But where man wonders, faith can all explain : 
 'Twas God WITHIN made Luther great without; 
 Whether against that triple-crown'd Pretence, 
 The mitred Antichrist of Rome, he hurl'd 
 His thunders ; or, on sacerdotal crimes 
 Pour d the fine vengeance of his free-born words 
 In truths, which burned with majesty, and mind; 
 Prayer was the panoply, the shield and strength 
 That arm'd him for the fight, and kept him there. 
 
 R2 
 
186 THE AFFECTIONS BY 
 
 With this, the world, the arch-fiend and the flesh 
 Combined, he nobly fought and bravely fell'd. 
 And we inherit what his prayers procured: 
 For light in conscience, liberty in creed, 
 And the pure freedom of our British faith, 
 How much to blessings drawn by Luther's voice 
 From the high sanctu'ry of heaven, they owe ! 
 Yea, half the glory living empires boast 
 Shines with the mercy which the Monk procured, 
 When GODHEAD listened to a Luther's prayer! 
 
 And round a privilege, augustly dear 
 Like this, no language save inspired, can twine 
 The wreath, (how due !) of evangelic praise. 
 Prayer from eternity true riches gains 
 To make the poverty of time, less poor ; 
 Heaven down to earth, and earth to heaven, it brings 
 While dust with Deity by faith confers : 
 And, mark ! through nature, providence, and grace, 
 What miracles hath mighty prayer achieved! 
 The kingly Elements their thrones have left 
 To bow before it, and obey (though vast) 
 Its high dominion; Flood, and Sea, and Fire, 
 Have soften'd their severity of force, 
 Suspended by it ; Sun and Moon have paused 
 In wonder, on their cars of wheeling flame, 
 As if arrested by the Almighty's touch ; 
 And the wild brute, which not a world could tame, 
 Meek as a lamb, before a saint has crouch'd, 
 

 THE TRUTH MADE FREE. 187 
 
 Harmless and mute, when it beheld him pray! 
 
 Heroes in heart, in principle, or power, 
 
 Hath prayer alone with high perfection crown'd : 
 
 While saints and martyrs, and the men of old, 
 
 Giants in grace, who grappled with the fiend, 
 
 Or threw him bravely in the spirit's fight, 
 
 By valiant prayer their elevation reach'd. 
 
 And earth's EMMANUEL, in His day of flesh 
 
 Outwatch'd the midnight with His mountain prayer; 
 
 And, from the reservoir of Godhead drew 
 
 His faith intense, his fortitude divine : 
 
 And all. who love the cause eternal, have 
 
 Like their pure MASTER, fought the world with 
 
 prayer, 
 And strike for God, by God himself inspired ! 
 
Hantrscape of Bonusttc Hffe. 
 
 FROM out the bosom of paternal bliss 
 When came the SECOND of th' almighty THREE, 
 And God (in human image bodied forth,) 
 Alighted on this orb of graves and gloom, 
 As Prince of peace and Purchaser of life, 
 How lived, how spake, this archetype of all 
 Consummate manhood at its height, approves ? 
 E'en like his PERSON, did his life appear 
 Divinely human with coequal grace: 
 In Godhead, never sunk the God beneath ; 
 In Manhood, never raised the man above; 
 To each extreme symmetrically just, 
 Believer! here thine own EMMANUEL hail! 
 
 How awful was He, when the cloud of flesh 
 Gleam'd with the lustre of indwelling God ! 
 Thy fixities, vast nature! from the sleep 
 Of twice two thousand years, by HIM were moved ; 
 For all thy laws by His deposing lip 
 Their changeless glory to His changing jwillj^ 
 Yielded, like vassals by their king o'erawed. 
 He look'd creation at his glance was thrill'd ; 
 
He sp 
 
 Earth 
 
 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 189 
 
 He spake the elements each tone obey'd; 
 Earth, Sea, and Air their royal sceptres threw 
 Down at His feet, and fell before their LORD; 
 While shrinking, (as with conscious dread commov'd,) 
 Back from his word the rushing storm recoil'd, 
 Soothed its mad roar, and like an infant smiled 
 f Itself to sunshine, and soft peace again ! 
 Blindness, at His command, the sun beheld, 
 And Deafness heard Him, when the fiat came; 
 Disease was Health ; and Lameness felt her limbs 
 With miracles of energy to move ; 
 And the dead body from the bier up rose 
 Beneath the resurrection of His word ! 
 
 And awful was He ! when the curse was borne, 
 While His bow'd head was crimson'd o'er with blood ; 
 Then shook the Earth, and shuddered as the groan 
 Of Christ appaird her ; and a deep eclipse 
 Dropt like an eyelid o'er the flaming sun, 
 (Dreading to gaze on God incarnadined!) 
 But, in that syncope of mortal hopes, 
 i That pause tremendous in our human fate, 
 When sepulchred MESSIAH, cold and pale, 
 Seal'd in the rock a dead redeemer lay, 
 While nature seem'd as if with stern revenge 
 To triumph o'er Her pallid VICTOR there, 
 How awful was He when His grave-clothes stirr'd ! 
 When the rock trembled with an earthquake-pant, 
 Till the stone, radiant with angelic touch, 
 
190 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 Roird from His sepulchre; and, rising up 
 In all his majesty of might, behold 
 The Saviour gather'd to a God again 
 Martyr, at once, and master of the tomb ! 
 
 But gentle was He ! with all grace of man 
 Completely as with charms of Godhead crown'd ; 
 For He who came, by love eterne inspired, 
 From heights celestial, with a pitying stoop 
 The low horizon of our world to meet, 
 Not in the costume of exterior flesh 
 Alone was found; but, FELLOWSHIP with man 
 The life of JESUS bodied forth, and breathed ; 
 The accent of created love He caught ; 
 The sunshine of created joy He shared; 
 The sorrow of terrestrial sighs he heaved ; 
 And, with the tenderness of mortal tears 
 Moisten'd His eyelids, when a sister wept. 
 His form was human, and His feelings too ; 
 Thus, manhood there, in archetype may see 
 Each moral landscape which a life presents 
 When holy; where affections crowd the scene, 
 And heart and home a mingled Eden make, 
 While virtue follows where the Saviour went, 
 Through haunts of love, and bowers of social bloom. 
 
 And thus, religion, like her Master, glides 
 With touching beauty, or with tender grace 
 O'er duteous walks of life's diurnal round. 
 
 

 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 191 
 
 For while, on wing celestial, faith can waft 
 
 Up to the THRONE a meditative soul ; 
 
 Down to the actual, with adaptive love, 
 
 Where broad humanity in humble guise 
 
 The man developes, it can safely come, 
 
 And o'er it cast a consecrating smile. 
 
 So, from the blaze of public life retired 
 
 'Mong shades domestic, where affection blooms, 
 
 And feeling all its happy foliage sheds, 
 
 Behold the man, whom death nor dungeon awed, 
 
 Serene and simple as a peasant live: 
 
 No airs heroic in dramatic style; 
 
 No sickly vapours of abstracted thought; 
 
 No lofty, loveless, and disdainful looks 
 
 Around him here, severest judgment finds. 
 
 But, plainly bold, with apostolic mien, 
 
 And full-toned manhood in a free-born style, 
 
 A husband, in the great reformer see, 
 
 Like Martin Luther, and like nothing more ! 
 
 No big pretension, with its saintly pomp, 
 
 The actor made him. In the walks of home 
 
 Lord of himself, His individual mind 
 
 Free from the fetters of o'ermast'ring fame 
 
 He kept; his life was freedom to the last, 
 
 Stamp'd in the mould simplicity admires. 
 
 The MAN was never in his NAME absorbed, 
 
 Chain'd like a captive to his own renown. 
 
 Framed in the homeliness of cottage worth, 
 
 A racy humour, and a rough disdain 
 
192 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 For mock supremacies, for mean effect, 
 For little greatness, and for large pretence, 
 Were his; and he, who held all Koine at bay 
 And bulwark'd Europe by his brave appeals, 
 Looks he less lofty, to the hearts which love 
 The sterling and the true, when playful seen 
 In the mild sunshine of a married state ? 
 There could he sparkle round the social board, 
 As romp'd the infant on his rocking knee; 
 While the glad mother, sat with glowing face 
 And bathed her feelings in the father's smile ! 
 
 Yes! beautiful behind the scenes to gaze, 
 And there no mock attempt, whose aping pride 
 Would play the hero in ascetic gloom, 
 To witness ; but, the solid worth of sense 
 And healthful sanctity, whose fervid power 
 The fire and fulness of overflowing heart 
 Betoken'd. Lofty in his bosom beat 
 The pulse of principle, and great design : 
 But not alone, or frowningly aloof, 
 A frigid, stern and adamantine Thing, 
 Whose life (in passionless contempt retired 
 From warm reality's most welcome hour) 
 Freezes away, unloving and unloved, 
 Not thus, the avenger of the bible lived : 
 In faith a hero, but in heart a man, 
 With him, the simple with the great combined, 
 And both together made that blending charm 
 
A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 193 
 
 Beyond the drama of affected life 
 
 To feel, though play'd with art's consummate guile. 
 
 But nature, with her typing glass, reflects 
 A soul like Luther's, of sweet majesty. 
 Expressive mountains ! from whose massive forms 
 The dread Almighty speaks Himself to man 
 By syllables which hearing mind translates, 
 And conscience, with believing joy adores, 
 How often, underneath your shades august, 
 Or, in the hollows of your green descent, 
 The tiny flowers in tenderness and bloom 
 Wave their young beauty! or, infantile plants 
 Bow to the breeze their unresisting heads, 
 While the faint lisp of dropping leaves returns 
 A murmur'd echo to the rippling stream 
 That runs beside them, with loquacious play. 
 And thus, methinks, beneath that mental shade 
 The tow'ring giants of the mind produce, 
 Simplicity in loving calm delights 
 To watch the flowerets of affection bloom ; 
 And see those lilies of the heart arise 
 Which make the garden of our spirit green, 
 And breathe a fragrance o'er affection's world. 
 
 And so admire we with revering gaze 
 True greatness, when it lays all thunder by, 
 Till the soft childhood of the heart returns; 
 And solemn wisdom, sparkling into wit, 
 
A LANDSCAPE OP DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 Can gild the heights of intellect with smiles. 
 But chief from music, came the master-spell 
 Which Luther, like a spirit's echo, loved ! 
 To him it seem'd a charm divinely framed, 
 An earthless magic, out of myst'ry born, 
 A SOMETHING from immediate Godhead sprung; 
 And so with heaven intoned, that Satan fled 
 When melody its subtle might array'd; 
 Or, sank o'er passion, like a healing dew 
 Pure from the fount of freshness in the skies. 
 
 'Twas thus the poetry of private life 
 Around him, with an unresisted reign 
 Gather'd its tones. But, oh ! ye quiet fields, 
 Where, lost in sunshine, soar'd the lyric birds 
 In wing'd delight, and ever-warbling song, 
 How would he listen to your choral joy, 
 Till the gay summer of his spirit smiled 
 With answering lightness to the scene it loved ! 
 And often, when the fever, hot and harsh 
 From human outrage, parch'd him into pangs 
 And weary anguish, till the spirit wept, 
 Didst thou, meek Nature ! with maternal smile 
 Look through his soul, and laugh the cloud away. 
 To him thy shrines, thy solitudes profound, 
 Thy hues and shades, and harmonies perceiv'd 
 Brought more than feeling to his heart of faith. 
 And so, the very flowers to him could plead, 
 And, by their aspect of persuasive bloom, 
 
A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 195 
 
 Remind him oft of Eden, long no more ; 
 Or, bid him muse on what the world will be, 
 When second paradise again shall bloom : 
 Since ALL that fell, by Adam's guilty fall, 
 From outward glory into penal gloom, 
 And all of kingship which the soul enjoy'd 
 When man, as monarch of creation ruled, 
 And, as anointed priest of paradise, became 
 The mouth of Nature, and her mute delights, 
 To pristine splendour shall once more arise, 
 Till crownless manhood wear a crown again; 
 And earth redeern'd, Messiah's palace be, 
 To shine, as round his central throne it rolls, 
 The loved metropolis of sumless worlds. 
 
 And who, amid some trance of thought sublime, 
 On destined man, as prophet, priest, and king, 
 Hath ever mused, nor imaged how the soul 
 In the bright mould of innocence was stamp'd, 
 When, lord and master of this living world 
 The ancestor of human kind was crown'd? 
 Who hath not ponder'd, or profoundly sigh'd 
 In the deep hush of some diviner mood, 
 O'er the dead glories of that primal scene 
 When all creation, christen'd by his lip, 
 Look'd in his face as KING on nature's throne? 
 For what is science, but a shadow cast 
 From the pure substance of primeval mind ? 
 A haunting dim, indefinite and deep, 
 
196 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 Of LIGHT departed, in the gloom of sin ? 
 Or, what is justice, but our priesthood felt, 
 The moral echo of supreme desire 
 That God and conscience may in one combine? 
 Or, what this appetite for boundless sway, 
 This hunger of the heart to rule and reign, 
 But, sense of kingship in our soul alive, 
 A regal longing for a vanished crown? 
 
 By law of mild association led 
 From nature's step-stones, to ethereal heights 
 Of things that shall be, thus the heart ascends. 
 A mute theology all nature makes; 
 The very ground no vain religion breathes, 
 Where thorn and thistle, blent with fruit and flowe 
 Both cross and curse by intimation teach. 
 But when from feeling, unto faith we mount, 
 What fine accordance doth redemption show 
 Between the ruin and the rise of man ! 
 For, in thy PERSON and thy SPIRIT, Lord, 
 A re-production of those TRINAL POWERS 
 (That threefold state of majesty entire, 
 When priesthood prophecy and kingship crown'd 
 The MAN consummate,) faith's adoring eye 
 In dim rehearsal, or in dawning grace 
 May witness. Hence, our being, at the best, 
 Is but an embryo of the life to be. 
 Philosophy a mere precursor looks; 
 All high attainments but its preludes are; 
 
A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 197 
 
 And science but presentiment appears 
 Of all which manhood, when redemption brings 
 The primal glories of our birthright back, 
 In full millennium shall at length enjoy. 
 
 Behold a centre ! where our yearnings meet, 
 That oneness, where all aspirations blend 
 When o'er the ruins of ourselves we roam; 
 And not from nature up to nature's God, 
 But down from nature's God, look nature through. 
 Tis here, the meaning of their mystic strife 
 Passion and principle alone explain. 
 The hell we merit, or the heaven we make, 
 The poet's Eden and the painter's dream, 
 With whatsoe'er magnetic genius cites 
 By shaping vision from her scenic world ; 
 Together, with all temples and all shrines 
 The ritual heart instinctively erects, 
 These, (in their secret unison of aim,) 
 In blind concurrence to one centre tend; 
 E'en to REGAIN what sin's vast forfeit took 
 From earth of beauty, or from man of bliss. 
 
 And, what an income to poetic mind 
 The daedal earth by sight and sound affords! 
 Oh, wise beyond the learning of all books, 
 And learn'd beyond the learning of the schools, 
 And rich beyond creation's gold to give, 
 The man, who thus by deep communion binds 
 
198 A LANDSCAPE OF DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 His heart with nature's, in maternal bonds! 
 A great proprietor of glories he ! 
 Monarch of each mild happiness at home, 
 And with the universe a sharer deep 
 In all the march and movements of a LIFE 
 Without embodied, or within inspired. 
 
 And what, though Age, with shaded brow and cheek, j 
 And eye made solemn by a sense of death, 
 No longer, in the wild and wild'ring glow 
 Of new-born passion, looks on nature's scene, 
 As once impassion'd boyhood loved to do; 
 Gay as the sunbeam gambling at his side, 
 And headlong as the breeze that round him play'd; 
 Still, not the less, may life's autumnal dreams 
 Be fed with beauty; and, not seldom find 
 Meanings that melt, and mysteries that thrill 
 Those lesson'd hearts which nature's lovers keep. 
 By earth and ocean, sky and breathing air, 
 The ever ancient and the ever young 
 Creation, with expansive charms appeals 
 To youth and age, intelligibly loud ; 
 And, by unceasing laws a symbol gives 
 To fleeting life, of permanence and power; 
 Till haply, in the hush of higher moods, 
 We mount aloft on meditation's wing 
 To HIM, THE CHANGELESS! in whose eye alone 
 Both past and present make perpetual NOW, 
 And all the ages of unreckon'd time 
 Are but the pulses of eternity. 
 
(JCaterfjfem. 
 
 FAR as imagination's wing can roam, 
 Or, free conception take its daring flight, 
 We love to mirror the ALMIGHTY'S power 
 Infolding boundlessness, with Life and Love 
 For ever. Throned in secrecies of awe, 
 Unfathomably within Himself retired, 
 We vision worlds, as creatures of His will 
 Around HIM summon'd : but, the stooping grace 
 Of love creative, when it moulds a flower, 
 Or makes an insect happy, thrills the heart 
 Like tearful music, and attunes within 
 Anthems of silent wonder. While the great 
 In Godhead, magnifies adoring mind, 
 In His minuteness, how we greet His name! 
 For, in the circle of an atom's range 
 Dwell the same attributes as made and move 
 A universe, with all its breathing worlds! 
 If God in great things be supremely great, 
 To feeling, looks He greater still in small : 
 For when the WORKER and His work appear, 
 To our perception, all divinely fit, 
 Religion then, is reason at its height: 
 
200 THE CATECHISM. 
 
 Then, parallel with HIM the platform lies, 
 And our imagined infinite is graced 
 With attributes most infinitely meet. 
 But, when some particle, or pulse, contains 
 The MIND which makes eternity its home; 
 And through the chambers of immensity 
 Walks to and fro, creatively divine; 
 Then, dazzled reason into faith absorb'd, 
 Worships the myst'ry; and, with wonder glows 
 To watch the working of our God complete, 
 In all things center'd nowhere circumscribed! 
 Yes, while he wheels ten thousand worlds along, 
 In the same instant, lo! he stoops to count 
 The tiny populace a sunbeam holds, 
 Time the quick beating of an insect's heart, 
 Or close the eyelids of a babe for rest. 
 As if nought else eternal thought embraced, 
 Each atom holds a concentrated God; 
 While our protection, by its grandeur proves 
 All mercies waft th' Almighty on their wings! 
 
 And thus, (if bold analogy may dare 
 The human with divine to parallel,) 
 Most touchingly the moral sight appeals 
 To saintly virtue in the heart enshrined; 
 When He, who thunder'd with alarming roar 
 Round the vile Popedom, till its pillars shook, 
 Sank to the level of a simple child, 
 And won frail childhood to the creed he framed. 
 
THE CATECHISM. 201 
 
 The son of thunder, soften'd to a breeze, 
 
 Behold him shroud the lightning of his soul 
 
 In shading meekness; while the hand which hurl'd 
 
 The false decretals to devouring fire, 
 
 Plies o'er some little book, or teaching page. 
 
 Where infancy may learn the name to lisp 
 
 Of JESUS ; or the budding mind unfold 
 
 In faith and freshness, to the call of heaven. 
 
 His was the heart, that glow'd with all that grace 
 Of pure compassion for the spirit breathes. 
 ONE living soul, from sins and hell redeem'd, 
 He weigh'd it in the balance of That BLOOD 
 Whose ev'ry drop with Deity was priced! 
 And thus, behold him, with paternal smile, 
 And graceful stoop of his gigantic mind 
 Bow to his task, a creed for youth condense 
 In language artless, as the lisping mouth 
 Of childhood could pronounce, or read, or pray. 
 While reason's light through fancy's prism falls 
 In lines of error in the proud man's view, 
 Luther, himself a child, with children knelt 
 That Cross beneath, where nature must again 
 Be born. He felt, to know he nothing knew 
 Was knowledge passing what the world calls wise : 
 And so, if myst'ries, like the mountains, cast 
 A shadow deep'ning as their tops advance 
 Nearer and nearer to the soundless heaven, 
 He left them in the glory of their gloom, 
 
202 
 
 THE CATECHISM. 
 
 Untouch'd by reason with its carnal gaze, 
 Unmarr'd by guess-work from the schools derive 
 Unmock'd by mind, with meaningless assault 
 Presuming through the HOLIEST to rush, 
 Where God in darkness rears His throne and thinks!) 
 
 And, like him, may we learn to pause, and pray 
 Nor argue down the glory we deny. 
 When God is speaking, 'tis for dust to hear, 
 And learn to rev'rence more than mind can reach : 
 For GOD unmautled, would be God no more; 
 Remove the myst'ry and th' Almighty's gone! 
 
Conflict fot'rt) tfie ffiolr of tin's 
 
 OH, how religious is the reign of night ! 
 I When earth entranc'd, and heaven ethereal grows, 
 ! And yon bright worlds, with their orac'lar beams 
 ; Like shining language to the soul address 
 | Their sacred beauty; while the loving stars 
 | Unseal their eyelids, and with lustrous gaze 
 | This world salute, till our attracted souls 
 ! Responsively their looks of love return. 
 'Tis then the mounting energies of mind escape 
 i From sordid fetters; and, like eagles, sweep 
 The dazzling firmament of thought divine, 
 Sparkling with truths, unnumbered as unnam'd; 
 Till, earthward dropping on exhausted plume, 
 Like the awed psalmist of the night, they feel 
 A soft religion from the sky descend, 
 A charm'd humility, that preaches thus : 
 "Say, what is man, when paragon'cl with worlds! 
 How mean a speck, how miserably small, 
 Minute beyond minuteness to pourtray, 
 Creation where he walks, and weeps, and dies! 
 And HE the ARCHITECT, whose fiat call'd 
 And wiird this universe of worlds abroad, 
 
204 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Where is the temple that can hold His praise, 
 
 Or, mind created, which can shadow HIM ? 
 
 Whose throne is BEING, trackless and untold, 
 
 And, from whose glory not one ray would melt 
 
 Were all this bright magnificence and mass 
 
 Fell'd by His frown, to perish and to fall ! 
 
 For, if deep ocean, with her sumless waves, 
 
 Not less in majesty of water rolls 
 
 If haply some expiring billow sink ; 
 
 Or forest huge, whose patriarchal trees 
 
 Their wild luxuriance to the winds present, 
 
 Not less o'erawes us, though some leaflet die : 
 
 Then, would no countless throng of worlds, though dead 
 
 Or stricken by some everlasting blight, 
 
 One shade on His supernal glory cast; 
 
 Who makes and unmakes, moulds and masters all, 
 
 But in Himself consummate God abides/' 
 
 And, may not thus our lesson'd being lie 
 Low at the footstool of this felt IMMENSE, 
 To learn humility from all it finds? 
 A contrast wise, comparison profound 
 Nocturnal splendours may they not inspire? 
 When, from the fever of his day- worn life 
 At length escaping, pensively alone, 
 Thus may the mystic of the heart delight 
 To soothe excitement, in the sainted calm 
 Breathed from thy presence, oh, ambrosial night 
 Of solitude, serenity, and stars ! 
 

 GOD OF THIS WORLD. 205 
 
 Thine is the hour for poetry, and prayer; 
 Searchings how deep, and soarings how divine 
 Are then experienced ! Time and earth depart ; 
 The shadows of exterior life recede, 
 Like cloud-mist from a morning vale uproll'd; 
 And through the infinite we seem to gaze. 
 Tis thus, beneath the sacramental heavens 
 Man sinks to nothing; and his world becomes 
 An atom, twinkling in eternity; 
 And life, the scintillation of a soul 
 Radiant and restless, with its tiny gleam, 
 That sparkles into suffring, and expires! 
 
 Sut here perversion, by its mildew breath 
 f ould damp humility with chills of doubt, 
 And Christ from out His own creation drive 
 By logic, from our littleness educed, 
 And caird, transcendent: " Can this puny ball 
 Of nature, this revolving speck of earth, 
 Seen like a glow-worm 'mid the gorgeous blaze 
 Of suns and systems, form a proper world 
 For Deity in flesh to seek and save?" 
 
 But see, how this base argument, and blind, 
 Philosophy and faith at once overthrow 
 "With swift prostration. Pause, thou sceptic, think ! 
 Or ever thus from orphan'd earth thou take 
 Redemption; and in nature's volume read 
 Thy refutation, thy intense rebuke. 
 
 T 
 
206 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Bend to the dust thy microscopic gaze, 
 
 There, GOD in atoms, e'en as GOD in worlds 
 
 Witness, and worship with believing awe. 
 
 To HIM, no magnitude as great appears, 
 
 And no minuteness, as the small can be; 
 
 Gradations all, in Godhead are absorb'd 
 
 And vanish; languor cannot HIM relax, 
 
 Nor low, nor lofty, vast nor various, bring 
 
 Distraction o'er HIM. Thus we hail him, GOD, 
 
 Alike in worlds immeasurably great, 
 
 Up to the climax of creation's scenes; 
 
 And downward, far as piercing eye can gaze 
 
 Behold Him, in each full perfection shrined. 
 
 For, in the polish of an insect's wing, 
 
 As in the symmetry of shapely worlds 
 
 The traces of consummate MIND appear. 
 
 But, might the sceptic from His heart expunge 
 
 Such fatherhood Divine, oh ! could we feel 
 
 That melting softness which so moves the mind 
 
 To learn, how good and tender God at once 
 
 Can be? Who (while all heaven His word upholds, 
 
 And life and matter, motion space and time 
 
 Form but the channels where His will evolves,) 
 
 Can note and number all our orb contains ! 
 
 Observe the insects, that on summer eve 
 
 Within the palace of a sunbeam play; 
 
 Robe the soft leaf, the transient air attune, 
 
 Direct a sunbeam to its shining toil, 
 
 Or, guard an infant on its tott'ring feet 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 207 
 
 From death or danger; or, at balmy night 
 
 The silken eyelids of young sleep bedew 
 
 With slumber, watching o'er unconscious breath ! 
 
 Thus may Philosophy and Faith sincere 
 Their creeds unite; and when on high we view 
 Yon great epiphany of glorious worlds; 
 Or, listen with the ear of thought within, 
 To all that liturgy of rolling stars 
 Whereby creation, with mysterious note 
 Prolongs for ever the Almighty's praise, 
 We sink not, by immensity appall'd; 
 But, in the sacred glory of our creed 
 Can call OUR LORD, the MASTER of it all ! 
 Moreover, God-reflecting MIND is ours 
 Though faint, and feeble; nor can man deny, 
 A single thought more deity involves 
 Than all the beauty of yon blazing orbs, 
 If mind be absent. Therefore, while we own 
 The sad Palmyra of our ruin'd state, 
 And what a Tadmor in the desert soul 
 Humanity on this soil'd earth presents; 
 Yet hither, from the heavens all heavens above 
 Descended (by paternal Glory sent,) 
 Divine EMMANUEL ! Here His feet have trod ; 
 Around His awful head our sun hath shined; 
 This air His breath of purity inspired, 
 And here, the music of His lips was pour'd 
 In speech, and doctrine; miracles illumed 
 
208 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 His mission, and each element confess'd 
 The bleeding glory of that Saviour's wounds 
 Whose heart for sin on Calv'ry bled, and broke ! 
 And thus, not all unfelt, nor all unknown 
 This orb minute, by God in flesh redeem'd, 
 In time or in eternity can be. 
 Rather may reason, when by faith enlarged, 
 The chartered empress of all worlds pronounce 
 An earth so ransom'd, with such BLOOD restored. 
 For, lo! the INCARNATION'S act immense, 
 Where God, Himself in man's own image makes, 
 Hath made its inorganic dust sublime, 
 And link'd our clay to being's endless chain ! 
 
 Hence wisdom does not back with doubt recoil, 
 (By reason's name made reasonlessly proud,) 
 When told, that earth a mystic platform makes 
 Where clashing angels, for contested SOULS, 
 With or against the dread Almighty fight. 
 Here attributes eterne their cause have staked; 
 Here character divine itself unfolds; 
 While from it men and angels wisdom draw. 
 And high o'er space, chronology, and time 
 All principles of truth themselves enthrone : 
 In cloudless ether of unchanging law 
 With all the sacredness of God they shine; 
 Who might, if thus He will'd Himself to show, 
 Round the mere centre of an atom cause 
 Thy majesties, eternity! to move. 
 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 209 
 
 Thus from that BOOK, where heaven-taught 
 
 science learns 
 
 All facts, whose summits reach the Trinity; 
 Pavilioned where in syllables profound 
 The mind and mercy of the SPIRIT dwell, 
 Luther, and all like him by faith transform'd, 
 The true position of our earth obtained. 
 For, though embedded in a brilliant mass 
 Of worlds on worlds incalculably ranged, 
 Like a mean province, (where ephemeral dust, 
 Shaped into men, to nothing hourly dies,) 
 It hardly glimmers; yet, to ranks on high, 
 Who from evolving God alone extract 
 The rapt elixir of celestial joy, 
 E'en They, can here arresting grandeurs find 
 Which blazon Godhead out from world to world ! 
 Yes! LOVE and LAW, harmoniously complete, 
 To them by cross and crucifixion gave 
 A new APOCALYPSE, which threw them down 
 Amazed! and into adoration thrill'd, 
 To view this vast IDEA newly rise, 
 Radiant from deeps of uncreated mind ! 
 Thus, they who once unblotted Eden walked 
 With man, a human paradise to share, 
 Now, when the banner of a fiend has waved 
 Defiance, yet on our dismantled earth 
 Of sin and treason, cast a yearning gaze ; 
 And watch and wonder, worship and admire 
 Th' unfolded secrets of forgiving Love 
 
 T2 
 
210 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Developed here. And, when a lurid gleam 
 Lighted perchance the features of the damn'd 
 Archangel, with a hope that ruin'd man 
 With God unreconciled must ever be, 
 And all His attributes to crisis brought, 
 How did their wings ecstatically wave, 
 And loud their endless gratulations sweep 
 The arches of eternity with praise, 
 God's masterpiece of mighty GRACE to hail ! 
 While He, their paradox and problem, sank 
 To plot in darkness for his own despair. 
 
 Thus fiends against, but angels for, our souls 
 Are now contending: on the cross sublime 
 Their fix'd and fascinated eyes they bend, 
 That glisten o'er its glories; while they cry, 
 " Depth within depth, O God ! how deep art TIIOE 
 Ark'd in THYSELF, all secret and unshared!" 
 The hidings of divinity they feel, 
 But fathom not; yet such revealings flow 
 From our EMMANUEL, that this world becomes 
 A focus, where redemptive Godhead brought 
 The burning fulness of His love to bear, 
 And taught the seraphim a song, how new ! 
 
 But while angelic bosoms heave with love, 
 And Watchers bright, from heavenly mansions glide 
 Down to this earth, the prodigal of worlds ! 
 And, with the elder love of sinless truth 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 211 
 
 Bend o'er our doom, with ever-breathiug care 
 
 Of pure compassion, are we not beset 
 
 By fatal opposites? by fiendish hosts, 
 
 Curtained in secrecy of hate and hell ? 
 
 Shapeless and sightless, round all Hearts and hours 
 
 Inaudibly they steal; in joy or gloom 
 
 Present alike, to poison or pollute 
 
 Man's being. Sin their fascination forms; 
 
 And hell in man, for their lost heaven atones : 
 
 So deep the horrors of infernal hate ! 
 
 And, what experience have the fiendish baud 
 Who haunt creation with their spells accursed, 
 From human mind and misery derived, 
 As, age on age, to murder souls they watch, 
 And dog them to the very gates of heaven ! 
 Six thousand years of study and of sin 
 Have deeply, through the labyrinthine heart 
 Instructed Satan how to wend his way, 
 Unfelt, unfear'd, deceiving as he goes. 
 Him Luther imaged, with an awe-struck mind, 
 As GOD OF THIS WORLD, (howsoe'er disguised,) 
 In moments shaded with satanic gloom, 
 Or hours of heavy darkness, when the blood 
 Ran wildly, and his heated brain was worn 
 By fev'rish over-task. And is the FIEND 
 A Thing impersonal, by shapeless awe 
 Suimnon'd around us, when the soul is weak? 
 But he, whose prototype was Paul sublime, 
 
212 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Did, like his pattern, make high reason bow 
 
 Before the majesties of truth inspired, 
 
 Believing firmly what the bible spake. 
 
 As fact to thought, or law to will is framed, 
 
 So scripture, to his faith a reason was: 
 
 And he, who never shrunk from face of dust, 
 
 Mitred or sceptred, but, by zeal inflamed, 
 
 High o'er the heavens had pitched his dreadless flight. 
 
 To scorch the angels with a scathing curse 
 
 If other than the gospel truth they preach'd ! 
 
 To fight the devil, God's own armour took: 
 
 Mail'd with the Spirit's panoply of prayer, 
 
 Thus was he taught with ghastly fiends to fight, 
 
 Weapon'd by hell to lead infernal war. 
 
 And was he feeble, while his faith was strong? 
 Or, rather, from his creed colossal might 
 Derived he not? Simplicity was strength 
 Here in that myst'ry, whose untravell'd glooms 
 And paths untrod do mock advent'rous mind. 
 Here, God is reason to Himself alone ; 
 To us, mere revelation, and no more 
 He deigns to be. Still, o'er forbidden ways, 
 By HIM foreclosed, its undisturbed flight 
 The pride of Reason, in her pagan dreams, 
 Presumes to wing; but drops abash'd, at length, 
 Down to th' horizon whence conceit arose. 
 
 Oh, for a heart as docile and as deep 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD, 213 
 
 In things divine as that immortal show'd, 
 Whose genius round the sun, and mystic stars, 
 And through the Cycles of immensity 
 The inarch and movement of eternal laws 
 Interpreted; and tracked each orbed maze; 
 And, like a priest o'er planetary lore 
 Presiding, taught us how the spheres revolve 
 In woven splendours! But the mind that read 
 Creation's secrets, with untroubled eye; 
 The light anatomized to separate hues 
 By clear dissection ; while with steady hand 
 He felt the heaving of great Ocean's heart, 
 Throbbing for ever with a billowy pulse, 
 Sat like a pupil down to Nature's page; 
 And from her canons, all that creed educed 
 That makes him seem a miracle of mind 
 Unmatch'd: who like th' apocalyptic saint 
 Of Patmos, hath for earthly science shown 
 What he for heavenly God BEHIND the veil ! 
 
 And let the worshippers of bright result 
 Forget not, thus impassioned Luther won 
 The bloodless laurels his brave mem'ry wears, 
 E'en by adherence to substantial FAITH. 
 Simple as Newton, (who could soar and pray, 
 Building philosophy on facts alone,) 
 Luther, in faith could Luther's SELF renounce, 
 Sit like the scholar of the HOLY GHOST, 
 And learn his lesson from the lips of God. 
 
214 
 
 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 And, deep the knowledge which his spirit drew 
 From heaven's own page, of devils and of men. 
 A stern arena, where a sightless crowd 
 Of fiends and angels do incessant fight ; 
 A battle-scene, where strangely awful Powers 
 Muster and mingle, and their arms unsheath 
 For good or evil, did our world become 
 To him, who saw it in th' eternal light. 
 For, just as when some Empire's outraged heart, 
 Big with emotion, swells with surging zeal, 
 If but a subject, by his slaughtered life 
 For Her, be fallen; and around his grave 
 Pours the rich life-blood of her dearest sons, 
 So is our earth, though dismal and depraved, 
 And darkly mean, (with vaster worlds compared,) 
 A centre, where the chivalries of heaven 
 Marshal Their forces and with fiends engage. 
 The terror of Their arms, eye cannot see, 
 The rushing of their plumes, we do not hear, 
 Nor view the motions of their mystic fight : 
 But yet, the contest is for countless souls ! 
 And for the royalties of heaven they strike. 
 And who, (save those who fetter with the bonds 
 Of clay all faculties of finer scope,) 
 In some rapt hour, when mind is half unearth'd 
 Like Luther's, have not felt the fight unseen, 
 And through the dim transparency of sense, 
 Vision'd the battle, that surrounds the soul ? 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 
 
 So felt the man, whom Superstition fear'd, 
 Whom Satan ever, with a savage watch 
 Haunted, and down to his own hell did long 
 By black temptation of his soul, to bring. 
 And hence to him, thus tempted, tried and torn, 
 No thin abstraction, impotently vain; 
 No mere creation of monastic gloom 
 The arch-Fiend was; nor, to his hell confined; 
 But here on earth, in dark unrest employed, 
 And round the axis of infernal guile 
 Revolving ceaselessly his cruel plans, 
 Luther beheld him : such as God asserts, 
 By will, and intellect, and power endow'd, 
 In living personality array'd; 
 A BEING ACTUAL ; head of all the damn'd, 
 Maker of death, and monarch of despair; 
 Who would the universe to cinders blast, 
 Baffle JEHOVAH, and His mercies blight, 
 Yea, all things into hellish rack dissolve, 
 To make eternity a pang immense, 
 And hear his music in creation's groan ! 
 
 And dare we, to some lacerating dream 
 Such agonies as rent th' undreading heart 
 Of Luther dare we thus, the whole refer? 
 Was it with phantoms of a brain diseased, 
 Or fictions, out of gloomy thought evoked 
 Fanatical and false, that saints of old 
 Contended? Or, with dismal cloud oppressed 
 
216 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Did prophets only with the air contend? 
 
 Were brave apostles, when their spirits bled, 
 
 By satans of the mind alone convulsed? 
 
 Or, did the GOD-MAN (in his day of flesh 
 
 Tempted like man) no thrilling combat face; 
 
 But simply, by stupendous vision rapt, 
 
 Fight with black nothing, and baptize it, fiend ? 
 
 Let dread Gethsemane to this reply! 
 
 There, where the bloody sweat from Christ 
 
 wrung, 
 
 As round Him, in his human weakness, rush'd 
 With eyes that hunger'd on his pangs to feed, 
 And wings that fluttered with a fiendish joy 
 The hosts of darkness, let the sceptic ask 
 If That be air, which made EMMANUEL shake ! 
 
 They mock the Devil who obey him most : 
 But, hearts made simple by a strength divine 
 Believe the combat, and partake it too. 
 The friend of sinners was the foe of sin, 
 And therefore saints with satan must contend, 
 As did their Captain, for his cross and crown. 
 Such was the creed our saxon hero held. 
 Yes! the brave spirit who in public shined 
 Clear like the sun of Righteousness he loved ; 
 Who calmly watch'd the papal furnace heat, 
 Prepared to battle with its sevenfold fires, 
 Prostrate and pale, with agonizing tears 
 Bound in the blackness of temptation's night, 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 217 
 
 Behold him, like a reed of sorrow now ! 
 
 And they, whose wisdom faith and fear produce, 
 
 Touch'd by no common awe, will come to view 
 
 A martyrdom, beyond what fire inflicts 
 
 In the torn depths of Luther's tortured breast, 
 
 When Satan fell'd him ; and the shades of hell 
 
 Frown'd on his heart their horrible dismay ! 
 
 Oh ! there were moments when th' Almighty seeni'd 
 
 Extinguish'd by the scripture which he penn'd; 
 
 When Sinai over Calv'ry hung its cloud, 
 
 Till legal thunders struck the gospel dumb ! 
 
 I Then, Christ did vanish into viewless air, 
 And pardon'd sin unpardon'd aspect took; 
 While conscience, like a scowling demon, lower'd 
 Full on the past! and e'en the bible lost 
 Its music ; and the melody of truth 
 
 i Turn'd to strange discord, where no tones of grace 
 
 i Or God were found. Then fiend on fiend, began 
 Between the Saviour and his soul to rush, 
 
 ! In raging darkness; till, at times, he shook 
 In fancy o'er the flaming deep of hell, 
 And hover'd, as by grasping demons held! 
 
 But he, who bled beneath satanic blows, 
 | Hereafter kiss'd the rod his heart endured ; 
 Then to his pangs, th' Almighty's purpose link'd 
 i And saw them, gilded with a father's smile. 
 For, need there was of educating woes 
 To pierce him to the centre ; till he pray'd, 
 u 
 
218 
 
 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 And the great Luther grew a little child, 
 
 Safe in the hands of his almighty sire. 
 
 Since much of darkness in his light reniain'd, 
 
 And much terrene with his celestial mix'd, 
 
 And much of Adam with his Christ there blent ; 
 
 Say, what but WISDOM, in the Godhead found, 
 
 Knew how to build a perilled Luther up? 
 
 So, not a pang his inner being tore 
 
 Which was not needed ; and by heaven overruled, 
 
 To tame that temper, whose volcanic fires 
 
 So often rent him with outbursting rage; 
 
 Or, soothe a Prejudice, a Pride allay, 
 
 And hush the loudness of his hostile tones. 
 
 Luther was great and God would keep him so, 
 
 By proving, in HIMSELF all greatness lay; 
 
 And there alone the reformation stood! 
 
 Reader! the combat rages darkly still 
 Around thee ; though an unrent cloud of flesh 
 Shut from thy soul their movement and their march, 
 And the dread soldiery by hell array'd; 
 Yet, in the midst of Satan's host art thou 
 Contending: were thy veiling flesh withdrawn, 
 Full on thy spirit, what a battle-field 
 Where all the chivalries of heaven contend, 
 And all the sympathies of darkness fight 
 For souls immortal would at once outflame! 
 But, not with garments roll'd in blood, or death ; 
 And, not with weapons which our eyes perceive; 
 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 219 
 
 But sightless, do th' unbodied host engage; 
 And therefore, Satan is the sense's mock, 
 The sneer of science, and the scorn of fools. 
 But thy revealings, Faith ! are ever true 
 And most tremendous, when the most denied. 
 A Devil doubted, ends in God disowned, 
 Till the first glance, a disembodied mind 
 Takes of the truth behind the veil disclosed, 
 Falls on the fiend, who made himself a lie, 
 To rock the sinner into damning rest. 
 
 Reader! believe, the combat rages still; 
 No pause, and no parenthesis of love 
 Or pity for our world, the fiend allows. 
 Darkness his throne, destruction his delight! 
 Ruin and ravage his dominion make, 
 [ And earthquakes seem the echoes of his tramp. 
 'But chief, to battle with the sainted host, 
 Fighting beneath the banner of their King 
 Orimson'd with blood, and blazon'd by His cross 
 Redemptive, does the prince of hell advance. 
 Thus Luther felt : and thus shall ever feel, 
 And, like him, in the spirit's fight contend 
 E'en to the gasp and agony of faith, 
 The heirs of Light, and heroes of our God. 
 
 " The serpent's head the woman's seed shall bruise! " 
 So spake the lip almighty; and to man 
 Revolted, then the INCARNATION preach'd , 
 

 220 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 In promise; thus, by grasp prophetic, spann'd 
 
 Ages of conflict in the church to come, 
 
 Till time's worn clock his closing hour shall strike; 
 
 And this phantasmal scene where Satan fights, 
 
 This whited sepulchre of sin and wo, 
 
 This prison-house where dungeoned Nature pines 
 
 For purity in renovated bloom, 
 
 A thousand years of hallow'd rest shall have 
 
 In one long sabbath of millennial peace ! 
 
 But, not till hurl'd by thunder-blasts divine 
 
 Down to his pit, in chaining darkness bound, 
 
 The mystic Dragon will from earth withdraw : 
 
 But fiercely to the last, a fight maintain 
 
 Implacable, against all truth array'd. 
 
 So, from the first, imperial Rome he fired 
 
 With pagan fury; and when that flame was quench'< 
 
 By blood of martyrs lo ! the Arian creed 
 
 Flooded the church with desolating tide; 
 
 And when they ceased, Platonic visions came 
 
 And round the Cross a dazzling falsehood wreathed; 
 
 Till papistry in full-blown horror rose 
 
 The last perfection of satanic lies ! 
 
 Perpetual motion of the moral vile 
 He was, and is, and shall for ever be, 
 The prince of darkness from his throne of death 
 Dispensing ruin. Who his sway can meet, 
 Or stretch the word, to where his sceptre waves 
 O'er time, and scene, and universal man ! 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 221 
 
 For every wheat he sows a rival tare 
 [n the vast field, where faith and virtue thrive. 
 Each ward of intricated self he knows; 
 j And so for each, some fitting key he finds 
 i Wherewith to enter, and the heart possess. 
 I And, let the mockers of the World unseen, 
 I The solemn findings of th' experienced heart 
 [n this believe that, like the Saxon Monk's, 
 The life of faith is one long battle now, 
 Beyond the passion of exceeding words 
 To syllable, with him who haunts the soul. 
 As conscience preaches, so temptation tries 
 By him directed; hence, no mood is safe, 
 No scenes are sheltered, and no hours secure 
 From art infernal. Ask the thoughtful mind 
 Sow often, when th' inflated world hath shrunk 
 With all its forms, its follies and its fears 
 Down to a shade, before the solid truths 
 And substance of eternity believed ; 
 Eow often then, when resolution winds 
 3ur being up by tension most sublime, 
 To heaven's pursuit, and its majestic toils, 
 Back to the low and little we are lured! 
 Fever'd as ever, and with fretting pangs 
 And noisome cares inextricably close, 
 Igain involved : as if this earth were home, 
 And immortality below the skies! 
 
 Nor height in God, nor depth in man, forbids 
 u2 
 
222 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Our dread assaulter. ATTRIBUTES divine 
 
 How oft he covers with deforming shade, 
 
 Darkens for dread, or deepens for despair, 
 
 Or softens down to sin's presuming dream, 
 
 Till God a SENTIMENT almighty seems, 
 
 And nothing stronger! Or the LAW he wields, 
 
 Fangs its dread curse with everlasting fire, 
 
 And, on the gibbet of tormenting doubt 
 
 Hangs the pale conscience, in perpetual gloom. 
 
 For though in health, when light the blood appears, 
 
 And all looks bland that in Jehovah dwells, 
 
 Then, sin a trifle of the past becomes, 
 
 A vacant nothing, with a sounding name! 
 
 But, when the dampness of the tomb bechills 
 
 Our nature; when some retribution frowns 
 
 Black on the spirit, from the bar of God ; 
 
 Then sin, which once a moral pigmy seem'd 
 
 But scarce apparent, like a giant swells 
 
 Upward to heaven, and with some horrid shade 
 
 Beclouds the INFINITE on Whom it falls! 
 
 And more than this, the arch deceiver dares; 
 For he eternity to time contracts, 
 And time to false eternity dilates, 
 When cheated fancy to his wand replies 
 And, not one grace THE SPIRIT'S hand bestows, 
 For which no counterpart in passion finds 
 This dreadful Parodist of God, to man ! 
 But chief that BOOK, where inspirations breathe 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 
 
 How would he poison, like a Pope of Hell ! 
 
 Fain would he hurl it from the bounds of thought ; 
 
 Or, make it echo all his heart conceives. 
 
 But, praise to God ! His heroes do not fight 
 In this fell combat, by their faith alone. 
 The LORD THE SPIRIT leads them to the field : 
 And none can perish, o'er whose shielded heads 
 Waves His pure banner of protecting grace. 
 Safely through HIM, they grapple with the Foe 
 By brave endurance, till the field is won ; 
 When angels, with a battle-shout of praise 
 Welcome to glory those heroic saints 
 Who cut their way un wounded, to the skies ! 
 And thus, what girded Luther for the fight 
 Doth each bold Gideon in the cause of heaven 
 Accoutre now, an armour Spirit-proof, 
 Burnish'd and bright, like that our CAPTAIN wore, 
 When HE and Satan for creation fought. 
 
 Eternal FORMER of the holy mind 
 VICAR of Christ ! who art, to men redeem'd, 
 Soul of their souls, and light of light within, 
 Vast in thy sway, and viewless in thy strength, 
 How full, how free, unfathom'd, undefined 
 Yet felt art THOU, in purity, and power ! 
 Thou o'er the chaos of the earth new-born 
 Didst move, and print it with Thy plastic seal 
 And inspiration. Beauty hence began, 
 
224: CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Order, and shape and symmetries arose; 
 
 For Thou of all the CONSUMMATOR art, 
 
 In the green earth or garnished heaven display d ; 
 
 And Nature still is but THINE organ, moved 
 
 Responsive to the impulse of Thy power. 
 
 Her laws, her lineaments, and loveliness 
 
 Are but expressions of Thy shaping will, 
 
 The outward index to THINE inward hand 
 
 Creative : beauty is Thy vest terrene, 
 
 Grandeur and grace thine intimations are, 
 
 And second causes, form but stepping-stones 
 
 O'er which Thou marchest to Thy works, and ways. 
 
 And o'er the waters of our human world, 
 
 The ruder chaos of revolted hearts, 
 
 Still art THOU brooding, with thy halcyon calm. 
 
 For never, since pollution's blight commenced, 
 
 From man (the savage of the senses made) 
 
 One sigh or tear, or tone of sacredness 
 
 To heaven had risen, or God's welcome sought, 
 
 But for thy grace, O SPIRIT! pledged and priced, 
 
 And by the blood of earth's GREAT MARTYR bought. 
 
 E'en the pure MAN-GOD, as to breath and blood 
 
 By Thee was fashion'd, in the Virgin's womb; 
 
 From whom His finite all its unction drew 
 
 With Hell to combat, or for Earth to bleed. 
 
 Then, are we lonely in the war of life 
 Terrestrial? Strengthless are we doom'd to strive 
 With foes of darkness, and with fiends of death, 
 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 225 
 
 Who round the heart, and in the heart contend? 
 
 Perish the thought ! The grace which Luther felt, 
 
 Soldier of faith, is prompt to succour thee : 
 
 Here is the haven for each surging wo 
 
 That maddens ; port of sabbath peace to souls, 
 
 When the loud billows of temptation rise, 
 
 And the heart trembles at their sullen roar. 
 
 Oh ! for a language out of sunbeams made, 
 In syllables of light Thy power to praise 
 HELPER and HEALER of the heart, alone, 
 SUSTAINER truly of the sinking mind, 
 Sole PARACLETE of all, for sin who weep ! 
 Descend, and with the dewfall of Thy grace 
 The world refresh, the wither'd church revive, 
 And the hot fever of our thirsting hearts 
 With healing balm of blessedness, allay ! 
 For thee without, our GOD denuded seems, 
 The CHRIST is charmless, and the Bible mute 
 To conscience, though to mental power it speak; 
 While all in morals, or in motive, forms 
 But heathen polish, with a purer name. 
 
 And where the shrine, the palace, or the throne 
 From whence Thy secrets, and Thy splendours flow ! 
 Where shall our hearts those inspirations seek 
 Which make all Christians, echoes of their CHRIST, 
 Down from the full-toned holiness of heaven, 
 To feeblest notes, that yet from earth arise? 
 
226 CONFLICT WITH THE 
 
 Wherever man and mind, and scene and space 
 
 Can meet or mingle, there, SPIRIT ! Thou 
 
 To solemn fellowship the soul mayst charm. 
 
 What, though the herald stars no longer glide 
 
 To light the Magi; though no mystic Bush 
 
 Burn with divinity, in speaking fire; 
 
 And, by no miracle made bare or bright 
 
 The ARM ETERNAL, out of Heaven is waved ; 
 
 Though shut the Vision, and the Witness seal'd, 
 
 Nor Voice, nor Thunder out of glory rolls 
 
 This earth to waken, still thy love abides ; 
 
 For the hush'd presence of the HOLY ONE 
 
 No bounds can limit, and no laws can bind 
 
 From hearts that seek Him, in the tempted hour. 
 
 In cities loud, amid the hum of men 
 
 He walketh; or, in loved and lonely haunts 
 
 Shaded and secret, where Reflection hies; 
 
 On mountain heights, by musing poets traced, 
 
 In vales withdrawn, by melancholy shores 
 
 Lashed by the billow in eternal beat, 
 
 In each and all God's whisper may be heard, 
 
 And still small Voice through listening conscience 
 
 steal. 
 
 Yea, heaven with all its sacredness of stars, 
 Earth with all its majesties of scene or might, 
 Home with its magic, infant's guileless laugh, 
 And mother's glowing smile, a path may prove, 
 Or channel, where His secrets may descend 
 In solemn gushes through the spirit's depth. 
 
GOD OF THIS WORLD. 227 
 
 But in Christ's temple there thy palace is 
 SPIRIT DIVINE ! from whom our glories come. 
 There prayer and praise, and ordinance sublime, 
 Symbols and sacraments, and ritual signs, 
 Anthems august, and hallelujahs deep 
 Attend thee, and thy ministries attest. 
 But, oh, we bless thee for the God-breath'd word, 
 Making our chamber like a temple glow 
 With life celestial, when by faith perused, 
 THE BIBLE! there we hail THEE on Thy Throne, 
 The URIM and the THUMMIM of Thy power. 
 
 READER ! thyself a GOD is reading now, 
 While thus the question of all questions peals, 
 Art thou, like Luther, by the Spirit led, 
 Or, art thou by the silent fiend seduced? 
 Whoe'er thou art, this truth take home, and THINK ! 
 Two Spirits only, for thy soul contend, 
 The Good and Bad, but now alone is GRACE 
 Imparted; soon thy final sands will fall, 
 And thou, in moral nakedness shalt be 
 To Devil, or to Deity assigned 
 Through endless ages! Oh, that truth immense, 
 This mortal immortality shall wear! 
 The pulse of mind can never cease to play; 
 By God awaken'd, it forever throbs, 
 Eternal as His own eternity! 
 Above the angels, or below the fiends, 
 To mount in glory, or in shame descend, 
 
228 CONFLICT WITH THE GOD OF THIS WORLD. 
 
 Mankind are destined by resistless doom. 
 A soul may perish but it cannot die; 
 Immortal ESSENCE, 'tis from Godhead drawn, 
 And, like that SOURCE, unquenchable, endures. 
 Then, do thou, SPIRIT of celestial truth ! 
 That essence sanctify, refine, and save, 
 And so renew it, till, resembling Thee, 
 Its heaven commences ere its earth be past. 
 
Destinies of Home. 
 
 THREE hundred years of beatific life 
 Unbodied, Luther's living soul hath breathed, 
 Since the last thunder-bolt of truth he hurl'd 
 With hand, how fearless ! at the heart of Rome. 
 There in that world, where ransom'd minds repose, 
 Where priests, and prophets, and the kings of faith 
 Are gathered into glory, and await 
 The pealing life-blast that shall rouse the dead, 
 The monk' of Wittemberg his Master sees 
 And worships, waiting for his destined crown. 
 But, hath the world from sacerdotal chains 
 Itself unfettered ? Is her faith the free 
 And pure, and prompted by the SPIRIT'S love 
 And guidance, soul and spring of saving truth, 
 Light of all churches, and the Bible's LORD ? 
 Alas! we slumber; and our carnal rest 
 Calmly around it lets the chain of Rome 
 Wind its dark coil, with most infernal ease 
 And falsehood. Drunken with our self-esteem, 
 Gorged with our vanities, and proud with vice, 
 Rapt in fond dreams of intellectual might, 
 At ease in Zion are we; while a foe 
 x 
 
230 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Remorseless, dragon-eyed, and slily fierce, 
 Wakeful as ever, watches for the prey 
 Apostate weakness for her fang prepares. 
 
 Oh ! for a Luther, with his dreadless eye, 
 And voice, by Scripture eloquently loud, 
 To front the brazen Antichrist, and face 
 The Vatican with all its veiFd array, 
 Its marshalled doctrines, and its muster'd lies 
 By jargon polish'd, and by Jesuits plann'd! 
 So might we bare the heart of blushless Rome, 
 And, rouse brave England's execrating voice 
 Till back the priesthood to her dens recoil'd; 
 While pope and pop'ry, with a palsy smit, 
 And scared by Scripture, might for ever shrink 
 To coward gloom, to convents, and to cells, 
 Hooted by nature, and by freemen hurl'd 
 At once from virtue's, and from reason's throne. 
 Oh! that our protest were as bravely pure, 
 As saints and martyrs sent in olden time 
 From their deep hearts against the MAN OF SIN, 
 Mocker of Christ, and murderer of souls ! 
 Oh, that in light, from flames where Ridley died, 
 Or Cranmer suffer'd his immortal death, 
 The Church of England would her hist'ry read, 
 And ponder as she read, with eye of prayer; 
 Till, in that light her lethargy awoke, 
 And rising, like a giant from his sleep 
 Enchanted, back the Romish chain would fall 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 231 
 
 Dissever'd, from her limbs of glory dash'd 
 In horror! Then, again that trumpet-cry, 
 That battle-voice magnanimously bold, 
 The tocsin of a nation's truthful mind 
 By Heaven excited, would once more be heard 
 Like moral thunder, round the seven-hill'd seat 
 Of Antichrist, in peals of dauntless power, 
 " No PEACE WITH ROME, TILL ROME MAKES PEACE 
 WITH GOD!" 
 
 But that bold spirit, which in martyrs blazed 
 For truth and freedom, and our Britain's name 
 LaurelFd with ever-blooming praises, sleeps 
 In dormancy most fatal. Thus, the BEAST 
 Apocalyptic, once again his head 
 Of treason, and his horns of vengeance lifts, 
 To smite the nations, and the church eclipse 
 With papal midnight. But, his outward mien 
 Is stern no longer; smoothed by modern hands 
 To winning gentleness, his ruffled hairs relax; 
 No savag'ry his watching eye reveals, 
 And all his claws of cruelty are cut, 
 And yet, the BEAST is changeless; for his heart 
 Uncultured burns with blackest hate within, 
 Deadly and dire, as in the days of blood. 
 For, well the Mother of all guile can suit 
 Her face, her features, and exterior form 
 Chameleon, as the atmosphere requires. 
 And now, when learning, science, and the mind, 
 
232 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 From dismal orthodoxy's bulls of death, 
 
 And blasts of excommunicating ire 
 
 Shrink with disgust, why, Rome the hint receives ! 
 
 Till, like the echo of all wants and wills 
 
 Behold her! with the freeman talking free, 
 
 With tyrants, she at once can tyrant act, 
 
 And for idolaters an idol frame 
 
 In saint, or Virgin! Whatso'er the creed 
 
 Politic, she can yield responsive tones, 
 
 Can flatter each with some obliging key; 
 
 And thus, opinion, passion, low desire, 
 
 All tempers, dreams, imaginations, thoughts, 
 
 All moods and minds, whatever the wish of man 
 
 In learning, morals, or in life be found, 
 
 To each and all, see Romanistic craft 
 
 A seeming counterpart affect, or frame; 
 
 But, deep at centre, antichristian still ! 
 
 Thus works the myst'ry, and the world is won, 
 
 And, aspect changed, for principle reform'd 
 
 Is now mistaken. Thus, for time prepared, 
 
 Rome meets all pressure from without enforced, 
 
 By powers elastically prompt within; 
 
 Responsive always to each varied call 
 
 From creeds that dare, or crisis that demands 
 
 Her weapon'd skill, her wisdom, and her guile. 
 
 " And, why hath God, the merciful and great, 
 All true, all wondrous, and all free, whose power 
 And will are colleagues in resistless love, 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 233 
 
 Rome's vile burlesque of Calvary allow'd?" 
 
 But here may silence our religion make; 
 
 Nor dare we, with inflated mind, presume 
 
 JEHOVAH thus to catechize, in vain. 
 
 Yet, what if CONTRAST earth's great teacher prove? 
 
 And thus, when man and world have both been taught 
 
 Their impotence, when art, and lore, and skill 
 
 Their powers have tried, all moral engines used 
 
 To lift our nature from the gulf of sin, 
 
 And tried in vain ; when thus mankind have learn'd 
 
 That not refinement, in theatric dress, 
 
 Nor giant intellect, with all its grace, 
 
 Nor high philosophy, with deeper spell, 
 
 The plaguing leprosy of sin can heal; 
 
 Thus, when the CREATURE all its vileness knows, 
 
 Shall MERCY in meridian blaze be crown'd 
 
 Man's only helper: GOD will ALL in ALL 
 
 O'er men, o'er angels, and o'er demons shine 
 
 Consummate! So, shall creatures gain in time 
 
 Lessons that through eternity will last : 
 
 That man in glory, may be humble kept, 
 
 And mindful, though with bliss immortal crown'd, 
 
 How black on earth his human heart hath been! 
 
 So, from the first, infernal war hath raged 
 Against the Woman, and her SEED elect; 
 While each high plan supernal Wisdom chose, 
 Hath Satan, by some counterplot, o'ertook, 
 Aping JEHOVAH with a mimic guile 
 
234 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 And art stupendous. But, the all unmatch'd, 
 
 The dread hyperbole of daring skill, 
 
 That great conception where his glory shines 
 
 With blasting lustre, is the Roman MOCK! 
 
 There, falsehood in the garb of truth is found, 
 
 There darkness in a dress of light appears, 
 
 And all the many-chamber'd mind can hold 
 
 Of lies which lull, or sophistries which please, 
 
 Is met, and answered by some prompt reply. 
 
 No! not a tone that character can sound 
 
 Through the strange gamut of the varied mind, 
 
 Without an echo, from some chord of lies 
 
 Play'd by the master-hand of popish art ! 
 
 Oh, 'tis a counterfeit where Satan, veil'd, 
 
 Hath mimiek'd CHRIST, and made His gospel turn 
 
 Round on itself, with suicidal hand; 
 
 Till, that which blood and burning could not do, 
 
 (When heathen Rome and Arian butchers tried 
 
 The Church to mangle, and her creed to mar,) 
 
 This arch defection, in canonic guise 
 
 By him erected, hath for cent'ries done ! 
 
 No partial error, out of reason framed, 
 
 Nor falsehood from licentious will begot 
 
 Hath Satan in the Man of Sin, achieved ; 
 
 But, one great bondage for essential MIND ! 
 
 A ritual net- work, where the soul is caught, 
 
 And co-extensive with its ev'ry power. 
 
 Thus, all of tendencies, or truths which rise, 
 
 By man or time fermented into play, 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 235 
 
 These, by a process of absorbing guile, 
 Rome with herself by soft alliance blends; 
 Can with her cause incorporate and mix, 
 And so transmute them out of hostile forms 
 To fine activities, whose friendly sway 
 Is won, and wielded for her own at last! 
 
 But, whence the MODEL for this curse immense, 
 This boundless magic of a baseless creed, 
 For ages, like an incubus of Hell 
 O'er human spirit brooding? Whence the power 
 Bewitching, far beyond destruction's range? 
 Why, 'tis a counterpart, a church reversed, 
 A mock of Satan, by a man inform'd, 
 A mimic SHOW of what in very life 
 And lustre, form and glory, should the CHURCH 
 As ground and pillar of the truth, have been. 
 For, had she constant to her FIRST LOVE proved, 
 (In faith concentred, as in form compact, 
 Binding on earth what God in heaven has bound,) 
 And witness'd boldly for her absent KING, 
 Bedeck'd and bright with apostolic charms 
 And robe apparent, then, had sensual earth 
 And falsehood, from her hallow'd mien recoil'd 
 Self-blasted; then, this world had wondering seen 
 (What never yet her carnal eye hath view'd) 
 Christ's mystic BODY, arm'd with sacred powers, 
 Mitred, and crown'd with majesties august, 
 
236 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 A ROYAL PRIESTESS, on whose light and laws 
 The radiant IMAGE of her LORD had shined. 
 
 But, Satan copies, where he cannot change; 
 And thus a parody in Popes contrived, 
 The LORD forestalling; thus the fiend has framed 
 A pageant hollow, where his plot can hide 
 And act himself beneath the SAVIOUR'S name. 
 For all and more than Rome assumes to be 
 By Heaven empowered, in privilege and grace 
 Imperial, must the gospel church have been, 
 If holiness with apostolic light 
 Her Shrines, her Altars, and her Sacraments 
 Her ministers and members, all had crown'd, 
 Creation's priestess would the church have proved; 
 And from the Urim of her spirit rolled 
 Pure oracles, from CHRIST above inspired, 
 Guiding all hearts to glory, and to God. 
 
 And here, (as ever,) from the plan divine, 
 In building up his Babylonian pile 
 Of mock'ries dire, and machinations dark, 
 The lost Archangel hath, with fiendish craft, 
 Directive elements of wisdom drawn. 
 His model was JUDAIC; thence he stole 
 Some armour; thence his cunning weapons forged 
 Effective; and, in archetypal mould, 
 Fine adaptations for the sensuous mind 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 237 
 
 He view'd there, organized in typic forms; 
 
 Myst'ries and rites, and ceremonial awe, 
 
 Splendours and shades, and meanings darkly clothed, 
 
 And ritual pomps magnificently veil'd, 
 
 He found prevailing; these he studied well, 
 
 Then caught the genius of the mighty whole, 
 
 And made a COPY for the Church of Rome, 
 
 Which pope and priest, levitically blind, 
 
 Hath used for ages, and transcribe th now. 
 
 Thus the dead carcase of mosaic form 
 
 (By God deserted, when by Christ fulfilled,) 
 
 Satan himself hath re-possess'd, and ruled 
 
 And quicken'd. Here, the Roman platform see, 
 
 Where man travesties what Messiah did, 
 
 And writes UNFINISHED o'er His perfect Cross ! 
 
 But can our age, though clad with self-conceit, 
 And helmeted with intellectual powers, 
 Push from her pedestal of priestly strength 
 This fell Colossus, which the soul bestrides, 
 This giantess of papal craft, and crime ? 
 Where is the David, whose predestined hand, 
 With sling of Scripture, and with stone of truth 
 Well-aim'd, her brazen forehead can indent, 
 Blasting her glory with a righteous blow 
 To darkened ruin, or abhorr'd decay? 
 | And, where the signs, the symptoms of her fall ? 
 Where be the weapons, which our arms can wield 
 
238 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Wherewith the triple Crown to pluck, and dash 
 Her high pretensions into baseless dust? 
 Alas ! our locks of strength are almost shorn ; 
 Distracted counsels, and divided aims 
 Impede fair union; and that mystic ROBE 
 (That all unrent, while on his gory Cross 
 The Martyr of creation hung, remain'd,) 
 Is torn to tatters, underneath His throne 
 By hands and hearts schismatically wild ! 
 Is this an attitude for deeds sublime? 
 With masters many, while our Lord is one, 
 Our cold negations can no church evince 
 In act embodying, what our creed affirms 
 Of ONENESS vast, and visibly array'd, 
 Say can we thus with uncompacted powers, 
 And mere abstractions, depthless, dim, and faint, 
 Battle with Rome, or keep her priests at bay? 
 
 Alas, expediency our Moloch was; 
 And at her feet our ancient glories fell 
 Dishonoured! Mute that mighty PROTEST, now, 
 Which once did thunder, like a voice from Heaven, 
 
 "COME OUT FROM HER, MY PEOPLE! QUICKLY COME:' 
 
 For base CONCESSION legalized her guile, 
 And, lo! the Land whose soil with martyrs' blood 
 Is hallow'd; where burnt Hooper's ashes sleep; 
 Where lived the lion-hearted men, whose tongues 
 Shook the rous'd empire with their shout for God, 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 239 
 
 For faith, and freedom ! there, the Papal BEAST 
 igain is lodged, and in his den of lies 
 Jan whelp, by principle unwatch'd at last ! 
 
 But, to and fro, behold! the many run, 
 A.nd knowledge, as by Seers foretold, increase. 
 But, what though ocean, air, and matter seem 
 A. university for Mind become, 
 Where sense can study, science take degrees, 
 Ajid Comfort all her sensual dreams enjoy, 
 [s this protection from the spells of Rome? 
 3h, not in culture where no sacred germs 
 Are planted; not by knowledge where no peace, 
 No pardon, and no purity abound 
 fn conscience, not by these are empires great, 
 A people glorious, or their welfare sure. 
 Knowledge brings power, but FAITH beyond it works, 
 Forming our manhood to its finest mould 
 A.nd stature ; fetches out of heaven a means 
 Of mercy, where alone true wisdom grows ; 
 Till, through the heart's regenerated depths 
 The mind it reach, and make it holy too. 
 To catalogue creation; or the tides 
 To balance; all the stars to read; or scan 
 The secrecies unveiling science loves; 
 This may enlarge, but not ennoble MAN, 
 If man be measured by his noblest scale, 
 By will, by conscience, and by perfect love; 
 Love that is heavenly, and by God begun ; 
 
240 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 For thus, philosophy divine asserts, 
 
 We find the lovely, and that thing we love; 
 
 But what GOD loves, He thereby lovely makes. 
 
 In these alone, pre-eminent abound 
 Those elements, which make our being great, 
 Our manhood perfect, and its wisdom pure. 
 But THINGS to master, all their names to know, 
 Their use, their natures, and their powers to wield,- 
 Can make the income of the senses rich ; 
 They serve the Body, not the Soul refine 
 Or chasten. Thus, in vain doth modern light 
 Itself forever idolize, and dream ; 
 For life exterior forms its sway alone. 
 But, where the palms by princely genius pluck'd 
 In times of taste ethereal, when the truth 
 Descended to the awful springs of MIND 
 Interior, reason's dread foundation scann'd, 
 And fathom'd conscience to its very core? 
 Where be our priests, and patriarchs of soul, 
 The poets high, who prophesied for Heaven, 
 Who sang of beauty's archetypal forms, 
 And cast eternity in moulds of time? 
 
 But ne'er can mind, at best, a bulwark frame 
 To fence corruption from the inner soul. 
 In central likeness all men meet at last; 
 For, there is conscience in the vilest left, 
 With immortality in all presumed; 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 241 
 
 And this great vicar of the sleepless ONE 
 Wakens at times, to vindicate His truth, 
 And preaches on eternity and doom 
 Sermons, that sound like arguments from God, 
 Dreadful and deep, in syllables divine ! 
 And then, religion, forced, or felt, or feign'd, 
 The heart's convulsion and its craven guilt 
 Alike demand : and, where can earth produce 
 A creed so organized with subtle craft, 
 To soothe the guilty, but retain the guilt, 
 As the mock creed of pharisaic Rome? 
 And though at times, pure reason may rebel, 
 (Shock'd into shame by fell imposture's lie,) 
 Reason is bribed, and understanding bought 
 When lust is flatter'd; and the conscience freed 
 From loading guilt, from darkness and despair. 
 
 Thus, no mechanics from the sensual mind, 
 No arguments by haughty science ranged 
 The MAN OF SIN can weaken, or overwhelm; 
 Rome laughs at these, as she has laugh'd before, 
 Melting them into nothingness, or names; 
 And ev'ry realm progressive science haunts, 
 Pre-occupies, and masters at her will. 
 But, what a paradox of wondrous crime, 
 What myst'ry dark of permanence and power 
 To men and angels, must her history be ! 
 For, though a slaughter-house for souls she made 
 The Church for ages, still, without a blush 
 
 Y 
 
242 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 She lifts her forehead in the light of Heaven ! 
 
 And though, full often have the pent-up fires 
 
 Of wrath around her, hot with ruin, flamed ; 
 
 And Power hath tried, and Policy assail'd 
 
 Her bulwarks; battles and rebellions leagued, 
 
 Tyrants and victors have besieged her walls, 
 
 While reason hath anatomized her well 
 
 And wisely; truth and science both, have hurl'd 
 
 The thunderbolts of their denouncing ban ; 
 
 Though Ridicule, with her sarcastic ray 
 
 Hath scorch'd her, flashing with severest fire ; 
 
 And, (more than all) most eloquently strong, 
 
 From the deep bosom of the soul hath swell'd 
 
 Time after time, humanity's appeal 
 
 Big with the wrong of ages, to condemn 
 
 The blackest outrage that can e'er abase 
 
 Morals and mind, and all which man should be; 
 
 And yet, the HARLOT, on her seven-hiird throne 
 
 Array' d in pomp, and theocratic pride 
 
 Reigns, like a Priestess of the spirit still 
 
 O'er crouching millions, in their souls struck blind! 
 
 But, find we not a symbol in the fate 
 
 Of Rome the city, how the Romish creed 
 
 All time would master, and uprooting change? 
 
 In vain three thousand years and more have swept 
 
 Their deluge, and their devastating tides 
 
 O'er that famed city, where the Caesars ruled 
 
 In blood, or baseness; Babylon hath sunk 
 
 Beneath the blast prophetic, and become 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 243 
 
 A den of ruin ; Nineveh is nought ; 
 
 The Persian perish'd in his pride of arms ; 
 
 Assyria's dead, and Macedon no more; 
 
 The daughter-islands of the ancient deep 
 
 Once free and fruitful, in their noon of fame; 
 
 With Tyre and Sidon, and the classic isles 
 
 Of Greece and glory, are but sunken things; 
 
 And Palestine, (th' Almighty's home!) remains 
 
 E'en like a mother, for her children dead 
 
 Wasted and weeping, in mysterious wo; 
 
 But, ROME is mighty in her magic still! 
 
 The Ark of ages, in stern glory there 
 
 Like man's eternity, by stone express'd, 
 
 Behold her fated for a future doom 
 
 When deeds, by prophets sung, shall there arrange 
 
 A destined platform. Well may wand'rers trace 
 
 In wonder, how august she yet remains ! 
 
 With fountains, baths, and famous aqueducts, 
 
 Arches and catacombs and hoary shrines; 
 
 While all the genius of dead ages haunts 
 
 Her soil with shadows, and her scene with spells 
 
 That speak, though silent! Past and Present meet 
 
 In high communion ; and historic dreams 
 
 Her tombs unlock, till all the marble streets 
 
 Move with her heroes ! whose eternal Minds 
 
 Yet walk the world with intellectual sway, 
 
 Reigning like monarchs on our mental throne, 
 
 Tyrants at once, and teachers of the soul. 
 
244 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 And as the City, so the creed, endures 
 Deathless in might, immortally depraved! 
 Her aspect alters when her power is weak ; 
 Her plans are soften'd when her foes are strong ; 
 Her practice gentle when the age requires; 
 But Rome, IN PRINCIPLE, is Roman still, 
 The changeless never! for her creed is ONE; 
 And that is, to absorb the world in power, 
 And on HERSELF a faith almighty found 
 Resistless, dread, infallibly divine! 
 
 And, what a miracle of witching force 
 She wielded, when the craven soul had sunk 
 Down to that level which her creed demands ! 
 Like to some vision of unearthly gloom 
 Shaped in the midnight of a dreaming brain 
 By horror featured, doth her sway emerge 
 From the gone ages, when barbaric Mind 
 Bow'd at her footstool for the throne of God ! 
 Two worlds she claim'd ; o'er both presumed to cast 
 The priestly shadows of her sceptred power, 
 Moulding eternity, and mastering time ! 
 Till, in the climax of presumption's dream, 
 Her mitred Autocrat of creed and cross 
 A mortal COPY of Jehovah call'd 
 Himself, and aped the dread Omnipotence ! 
 God's attributes, in libell'd form a man 
 Did thus array; and when his frown grew black, 
 It shaded all things with submissive awe 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 245 
 
 And silence; on his lip creation hung; 
 The elements from him their course derived, 
 And plague and pestilence his law obey'd ! 
 His names were natures; and those natures all 
 Ambition wanted, or his will decreed. 
 But, when his arm of excommunicating ire 
 Was lifted, Heaven itself that arm revered ! 
 And Hell, with all its agonies and glooms, 
 Its motion watch'd : but when indeed it fell, 
 Empires turn'd pale, and palsied kings recoil'd, 
 And half the world did vibrate with the blow ! 
 
 But, had this tyrant but the body cursed, 
 Made cities tremble, or a province poor; 
 Or, tax'd the passions for an income base, 
 Mankind were left some virtue still to save; 
 But NATURE, in her sacred ark of strength, 
 Where man is man, when all besides decays, 
 This did the Pope with dreadless lie profane 
 And plunder: there was sacrilege endured 
 Where the deep power of self-dominion dwells. 
 And, dreader far than famine, fire, or sword, 
 Dungeons and deaths, with all that martyr'd flesh 
 Can suffer, what an outraged CONSCIENCE feels 
 When, like a moral suicide, the man 
 Himself must abdicate in law and will ; 
 Then rots the mind in servitude, and shame, 
 The faculty august of reason fades, 
 
 Y2 
 
246 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 And blinded nature grows a base machine 
 By craft inspired, to work a despot's will. 
 
 But, sheathed for ever is th' avenging sword 
 Of Godhead? Will it ne'er on Roman crimes 
 And cruelty with flashing ire descend, 
 To cleave her bulwarks to their very base, 
 Dark Mother of all simulations dire ! 
 Oh, dare we think that all the mangled host 
 On Alpine mountains hunted, spiked, or slain 
 By thousands, or by Marian hell-hounds torn 
 To bleeding fragments, have in vain their voice 
 Heroic peal'd along the heaven of heavens, 
 Startling the angels on their golden thrones, 
 When the loud rapture of their dying lips 
 Came up before them? Fruitless have they lived, 
 Or preach'd, or felt, or suffer'd, who of old 
 Gave to the world the glory of their death 
 By wheel, or gibbet, rack or fiery stake, 
 In vaulted cells of subterranean gloom 
 By death-lamps lighted, where the lurid beam 
 Faintly along some victim's quiv'ring flesh 
 Glimmer'd, and lit the harrow'd features up? 
 Far otherwise may thoughtful bosoms feel, 
 When grateful Hist'ry to their shrines of death 
 Resorteth, as to oracles of Time. 
 The living dead ones are they! and their words 
 Ring round the heart like tones that never die. 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 247 
 
 Beyond their sermons, preach their sorrows still ! 
 
 Their anguish is our glory; for we feel, 
 
 Who died for principle, for God yet lives 
 
 To perish never! Where they bled, or burn'd, 
 
 Corded or chained, or rent by racking fires, 
 
 Devils were taught what man's victorious mind 
 
 Can master, when by prompting Grace inspired. 
 
 And therefore, martyrs of our peerless church, 
 
 Thou ancient plant of apostolic seed, 
 
 Sacred and sound, from Christ himself deduced, 
 
 We laud, and love ye with no cold delight, 
 
 Who bled for conscience, and to Britain left 
 
 A creed untouched like Cranmer's heart entire! 
 
 E'en from your tombs, an eloquence there rolls 
 
 Which champions ages to repeat your worth ; 
 
 And never from our venerating hearts 
 
 The deeds ye dared, the majesty ye showed, 
 
 Yea, all the anguish of your godlike souls 
 
 Shall die ! All time your holy debtor is ; 
 
 And, long as in our church's veins there runs 
 
 The precious life-blood of protesting truth, 
 
 Never can England from her mindful soul 
 
 Cancel the debt her glories owe to you ! 
 
 Your pangs have her inheritance become, 
 
 That made her rich beyond what gold effects: 
 
 Ye gave THE BIBLE, which your tortures won ; 
 
 And shame terrific on our head alight ! 
 
 If what the blood of martyrdom bequeath'd 
 
 In black ingratitude we basely yield. 
 
248 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Ye gave THE BIBLE ! and that book ye gave 
 Our blessings all in germ at once bestow'd. 
 For, what is Science in her purest flights, 
 With all the blending harmonies that rise 
 From social nature, but the mind evolved? 
 But, both the moral and the mental roots 
 Of human nature, with transmuting sway 
 The scriptures reach; and thus, with latent force 
 And vigour, these the heart of Britain cleansed, 
 Making her land the miracle of isles. 
 
 Then, not in vain, though Rome be blushless still, 
 And round her creed a Trentine darkness casts 
 Cruel as ever, have the martyr'd hosts 
 And hecatombs of peerless saints, who bled 
 For truth, to God against their murderess cried. 
 Beneath the ALTAR rise their mystic wails* 
 And enter, not unfelt, the ear of Heaven : 
 Since, ev'ry drop their costly veins effused, 
 With every pang their burning limbs endured, 
 Have bright memorial in the LAMB'S own book; 
 And shall be answered, when that hour decreed 
 Shall darken forth, with dismal terrors big. 
 Then shall the LORD, in robe of fire descend, 
 And with the breathing of His mouth shall smite, 
 And with the brightness of His coining blast, 
 And into cinders by His curse consume 
 Earth's second Babel Antichristian ROME! 
 
 * Rev. vi. 9. 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 249 
 
 Meanwhile, inventive man would fain achieve 
 What scripture only to TH' ETERNAL gives 
 In plan and purpose, for his crowning work. 
 Thus, all are prophets to themselves at least, 
 And preach perfection possible below. 
 But, can corruption to itself be cure? 
 Yet still it tries, nor will heaven's cure allow, 
 Nor dip in Jordan till Abana fails! 
 But man is ruin; if rebuilt he rise, 
 Tis not by rubbish from himself begot, 
 But by a means transcendingly divine. 
 The creed within forms character without, 
 And God alone can educate the will; 
 !But will makes MAN, in all essential powers; 
 And therefore must he, by omnific GRACE 
 'Beyond himself through heavenly love be raised ; 
 Or, still be changeless in his moral core. 
 Yes, to the last, the leper will remain ; 
 The skin may whiten, but the blood is black, 
 A nd burns in secret with a plague-spot, there ! 
 
 But, yet 'tis written with a pen of light 
 That Rome shall wither, and the Earth rejoice 
 In the rich beauty of her bridal robes 
 1 Apparell'd; and beneath her reigning LORD 
 Keep the long sabbath of a thousand years. 
 And, so millennial is the heart of man, 
 (As if 'twere haunted by some primal grace 
 Of vanish'd Eden, when the world was young 
 
250 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Sinless and bright without one scalding tear 
 
 To wet her eyelids or her cheek to stain ;) 
 
 Creation groans for her sabbatic peace; 
 
 And echoing mind in every age of thought 
 
 Repeats the longing. This the poet's lyre 
 
 Hath warbled, in prophetic strains of song, 
 
 Caught from the harp of Scripture ; and the creed 
 
 Of aspirations, as they rise and reach 
 
 Their zenith, does with this high faith accord, 
 
 That earth shall bloom with paradise regained, 
 
 And, be unweeded of her thorny woes 
 
 And thistles; and our age itself, is big 
 
 With expectation of some golden dawn 
 
 Of peaceful glories. But, alas ! for earth 
 
 If no millennium save what science brings, 
 
 Await her! if those moral TRUTHS sublime, 
 
 That touch the EVERLASTINGNESS of man, 
 
 To which the great diploma of our God 
 
 Precedence noble in the scale of mind 
 
 Hath granted, find no room for reigning here: 
 
 For, sooner may the hand of science think 
 
 To bale the ocean from its boundless depths, 
 
 Than drain corruption from the soul of man ! 
 
 But, so empiric vanity presumes, 
 By plasters, which philosophy invents, 
 To heal our NATURE and her wounds repress. 
 Beyond it, can satanic falsehood soar? 
 And yet there be in camp, and court, and school, 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 251 
 
 [n pulpit, platform and Athenian hall, 
 Who thus perfection out of man derive, 
 Politely bow apostles to the door, 
 And gently hint the Bible may be wrong ! 
 Beyond the Daniels of the church to dream, 
 I Thus can they think decrepit Rome shall fall, 
 ; Her head diminished in despair shall hide; 
 i Her creed be crush'd, her rites to nothing scoff 'd ; 
 : Her priestly Bridewell (where the soul is whipp'd 
 To virtues, and corrected vices feel 
 More shame in fire than ever flesh endured,) 
 Accomplished mind shall into phantoms mock 
 And banish ! More than Bibles yet have done ; 
 Beyond what Luther in his daring tried, 
 Philosophy by magic force shall do, 
 And reason triumph where religion fail'd! 
 
 'Tis here the pagans of the mind presume 
 Low at the footstool of themselves to fall, 
 And worship, at the shrine their hands erect. 
 For carnal knowledge to herself is true 
 And constant ever! back from GOD recoils 
 Behind the tree, to gorge forbidden fruit, 
 Lurking like Adam in a guilty shade. 
 But, oh ! thou spirit of celestial life 
 And wisdom, teach them first THYSELF to know, 
 And, knowing THEE, themselves to feel, and find 
 That man, when Christless, is embodied sin; 
 And, though embellished, and by art embossed, 
 
252 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 But veil'd corruptions all his virtues form, 
 Till faith can touch them with a spell divine. 
 Oh, for a science such as Heaven can teach 
 And love can master, that conceited Dust 
 Within itself may learn to look, and mourn ! 
 So would our leprous heart its plague deplore; 
 And intellect from sky, and sea, and air 
 Would soon avert its overweening gaze; 
 And more discoveries in our moral depths 
 Than Matter catechized will ever yield, 
 Might then be mastered. Such refinement needs; 
 For many compass huge creation round 
 Who will not round themselves presume to sail. 
 What isles of vanity, what creeks of vice 
 Would then be charted, if 'twere wisely done ! 
 What continents of sin and self appear, 
 What strange geography the heart would prove, 
 That, unexplored, till now remained unknown! 
 
 But there be prophets who for Rome predict 
 A downfall, not by arms of earthly might, 
 Nor yet by reason, howsoever its powers expand. 
 Far humbler they : in things divinely deep, 
 JEHOVAH is their reason ; and they bow 
 With faith compliant at that mental shrine 
 Where Deity in human words unfolds 
 The future, and HIMSELF to soul expounds. 
 And thus convinced, and by the SPIRIT taught 
 That man with man can never right be made, 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Till right with Godhead will and worship be, 
 Our true advancement by preventive grace 
 Alone they augur. Well their natures know, 
 That as the Sun with his bright ray we see, 
 The living God with His OWN love we love. 
 And so, beneath the lightning of the truth, 
 They love to image how great Rome shall fade 
 Before the GOSPEL! in millennial reign 
 And coronation. How their faith exults 
 From the rich organ voice, and rolling chants, 
 And strains profound by rapt Isaiah pour'd 
 Down many a chapter of stupendous pomp, 
 To catch the music of Messiah's reign 
 That in them warbles! But, a WAIL there is, 
 Or ever thus the gladden'd earth shall lift 
 Her choral triumphs, yet from man to rise : 
 For seers august, from Enoch's olden time 
 To him of Patmos, all their voice unite 
 In diapason terribly distinct; 
 Denouncing woes, beyond what time hath seen 
 Or this world suffered, ere apostate Rome 
 Be ruin'd, or Millennial splendours reign. 
 And though, by ardency of hope inspired, 
 Along the heights of prophecy we look 
 Enraptured, and their sun-gilt peaks admire, 
 Deck'd with the radiance of a blissful dawn ; 
 Just as the mountains of our world appear 
 In the blue distance, lined in lofty range 
 And harmonized by one unbroken swell, 
 
254 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 With no dark gulf between, so, doth hope 
 Too often on the heights prophetic gaze, 
 And merge and melt them in soft unity ; 
 Though black the gloom, and dreadful the abyss 
 Of wrath and judgment that between them frowns. 
 
 The bridge of ages in prophetic time 
 Our dispensation is by heaven decreed : 
 Inclusively, between those seers 'tis rank'd 
 Who first Emmanuel in His veiling flesh 
 Predicted, stricken, cursed, and crucified 
 For our acquittal; and then, Christ to come, 
 Crown 'd with the royalties of reigning pomp 
 As PRINCE of souls, and PARAGON of worlds 
 To be enthroned. A CRISIS thus there stands 
 'Tween second Advent, and that Gentile church 
 Which now rehearses it, with glowing mind. 
 And, 'tis the zenith of all dreams inspired, 
 The sounding climax of predictive song, 
 The chant of martyrs, and the cry of saints! 
 And, in the gamut of successive times 
 Whose chords are eras, have divjnest prayers 
 Risen for ever, with augmenting swell, 
 To see this fated consummation shine! 
 Yet dare we not, by holy raptures fired, 
 Forget that PENAL CUP the church must drink, 
 By wrath and judgment to the brim o'erflow'd ! 
 
 And hence the past, analogously dread, 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 255 
 
 That doom confirms, the voice of God reveals. 
 There, as we ponder, lo ! each perish'd age 
 Darkening and darkening as it died away 
 From deep apostasies, to deeper still, 
 And deeper yet again, our own instructs; 
 That not from bright to brighter shall we speed 
 In truths and tendencies, till thus we glide 
 Softly and sweetly to those golden times, 
 That shine so brilliant in the bardic chants 
 Of GOD'S own poets, by His praise inspired ; 
 But rather will our Gentile sun go down 
 A bloody Occident, in wrath and gloom ! 
 
 And, what a warning, (would our ears attend, 
 Nor deaf as adders from the charming voice 
 Invert them) do the ever-famed scenes 
 Where churches once, which miracles endowed, 
 Apostles watered, and the SPIRIT'S grace 
 Divinely freshened with celestial dews, 
 Preach to the haughty age we honour now! 
 Where are they gone, those Daughters of the sea, 
 Smyrna and Sardis, and the Sisters five 
 Whose Angels once the loved disciple taught? 
 And by the shores, where oriental waves 
 Chime their lone music to the Afric blast, 
 How perish'd all, Tertullian's page unfolds 
 When Carthage made his apostolic crown, 
 Or martyr'd Cyprian into glory died ! 
 While Hippo, where sublime Augustine mused, 
 
256 
 
 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 And wrote his immortalities of truth, 
 Hath melted down to miserable nought ! 
 These give dread warning, if we wisely make 
 The past a preacher to our present, be. 
 But sick at heart, and in the head unsound, 
 And sleek, and satisfied with all we do, 
 The mountain of our majesty appears 
 Immovable; our age, Augustan call'd, 
 Our arts advanced, our science most complete, 
 Our wealth enormous, and our wisdom vast, 
 On land victorious, and by sea the same, 
 While on our empire sinks no travelled sun, 
 'Tis thus, by self-appreciation deck'd 
 And privileged beyond the past, we seem 
 Perpetual glory for our doom to boast 
 Above destruction, and beyond decay. 
 
 But where, amid this age of haughty mind, 
 Our weapon'd arguments of well-aim'd power 
 To baffle Rome, and keep her force in awe? 
 Alas! too often do our trumpets give 
 A sound uncertain; creeds are battle-words; 
 Some churches, temples where Religion yawns; 
 While hosts who hate the Cross, its name profess, 
 And love the preacher while the LORD they shun. 
 
 A CHURCH elected, not a WORLD renewed, 
 Here is the centre, for united aims; 
 And faithful round it (touch'd by solemn awe) 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 257 
 
 Meekly and firmly may we watch; and wait 
 Th' unfolding drama of that hour decreed 
 For vengeance, when the scarlet BEAST shall fall ; 
 When He, in whom all types of terror blend 
 And blacken into one colossal Form; 
 The dread fulfiller of prophetic woes 
 And wailings, shall at last Himself reveal ; 
 The sin of AGES into ONE condensed, 
 Shall then be acted; then the church endure 
 That Fiend in flesh, of whom all scripture gives 
 Faint antichrists, that fling their shades before 
 The coming substance of infernal might 
 Py Daniel vision'd, and by David sung 
 In song terrific. Then, a day of blood, 
 Of burning deaths, of blackness and despair, 
 !A11 creeds shall test, all living churches try, 
 Purging the faithful till their dross they lose, 
 And purified, from out the flames they rise 
 In radiant beauty; and by love bedeck'd 
 With bridal vesture, to receive their LORD. 
 
 And signs there are, and symptoms which escape 
 All but the souls who see with scripture's eye, 
 Prophetical of that dark crisis, doom'd 
 The Gentile churches to dissolve, and end 
 Amid the crash of kingdoms ! Far and wide 
 From Thames to Tiber, throng the shadows thick 
 Of terrors, which predict those latter times 
 Ripe for the harvest of almighty wrath, 
 z2 
 
258 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 When God for glory reaps His vengeance due. 
 
 Look where we may, the boding mind discerns 
 
 No sackcloth'd empire on its knees at prayer, 
 
 No kingdoms bow'd in penitence, and tears; 
 
 But all is headstrong, haughty, and unchanged 
 
 As ever. Vainly have revolving years 
 
 Dread sermons preach'd on anarchy and crime 
 
 To banded nations, or benighted men : 
 
 For, black with hate to holiness and heaven 
 
 In both alike, the heart, is heaving still; 
 
 And though earth rocks, and nature's footsteps reel, 
 
 Full on the buckler of JEHOVAH'S wrath 
 
 The age is rushing, 'gainst His bosses dread 
 
 To dash its forehead, and endure the death 
 
 Of treason ! Soon, perchance, may come 
 
 That dark catastrophe which closeth all 
 
 The fearful drama which this fallen world 
 
 Is now enacting, on the stage of sin. 
 
 The ancient Dotard of the triple crown 
 
 Is yet a mocker, and the Bible hoots 
 
 Madly as ever; while absorbing Rome 
 
 1 beneath the banner of her witchcraft draws 
 
 All opposites, in creed that rise 
 
 To swell her potency, and aid her charms. 
 
 Discord, and crime, and brutal passions rage ; 
 
 And lust and rapine, in delirium stecp'd, 
 
 Loosen all truths, and let all lies abroad 
 
 In lawless havoc over hearts and homes! 
 
T1IE DESTINIES OF It.nME. 259 
 
 A nd thus there rally, from the regions where 
 Disturbing elements of mind can mix, 
 All powers and principles, to final war. 
 And by such phalanx, which a fiend might lead 
 |To battle, when the world is well prepared, 
 And leaven'd to the core with lying spells; 
 When Faith (the bond of all cementing bliss 
 'Tween man and man) her social life withdraws; 
 And no religion to the THRONE eterne 
 Binds with a golden chain this earth below; 
 Then, may the hour, by Luther's prescient eye 
 Foreshadow'd, and by tragic seers foretold, 
 Come to a head, and ANTICHRIST be scorch'd 
 To cinders, by the thunder-blast of God! 
 The VIALS six have all been emptied now ; 
 The TRUMPETS six their peals of wo have blown ; 
 And of the SEALS apocalyptic, six 
 Their fated truths have each unfolded, and fulfilled : 
 Hut when that VIAL, for the seventh decreed, 
 Its curse shall empty; when the closing TRUMP 
 Hurtles its thunder through the mystic heaven, 
 Then, may this world some INCARNATION see 
 Infernal; such as never from the deeps 
 Of burning darkness hath permissive God 
 Allow'd, upon our palsied earth to stand; 
 And act the climax where all horrors blend ! 
 
 T>ut, whatsoe'er this shape of hell appear, 
 As WICKED, WILFUL, or the LAWLESS one, 
 
260 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 MYST'RY in flesh, or MAN with fiend combined, 
 
 Papist or Heathen, Jew or Pagan he; 
 
 If not in name, in nature he shall prove 
 
 SON OF PERDITION, who himself shall dare 
 
 To magnify beyond all worshipped God, 
 
 Or Saint, or Angel, on his temple throne; 
 
 And rob THE INFINITE of glory due 
 
 By lying wonders. Come, whate'er he may 
 
 In form or fashion, faith in this exults, 
 
 That in the wine-press of almighty wrath, 
 
 Trampled and torn beneath avenging CHRIST 
 
 The final ANTICHRIST is doom'd to fall ! 
 
 For when awhile, on Satan's seven-hiird seat, 
 
 The nameless ANARCH hath his wine-cup drugg'd, 
 
 And crush'd his compeers; till beneath his flag 
 
 All shapes of evil shall themselves enlist, 
 
 Dilated, darkened, and by deep excess 
 
 Made terrible, beyond what terrors dream; 
 
 When thus fell ANTICHRIST himself shall vaunt 
 
 A new ALMIGHTY on creation's throne! 
 
 Then shall that FIGHT, whose dismal pomp arrays 
 
 Full many a vision with prophetic awe, 
 
 And many a promise with its glory fills, 
 
 And many a verse with battle-music lines, 
 
 Be hasten'd. Lo! the bright AVENGER comes 
 
 In panoply of dreadful glory sheathed, 
 
 And blasting; and the disenchanted earth 
 
 Again shall smile, and with responsive joy 
 
 Partake millennium in the church's peace. 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 261 
 
 But who can gaze, with spirit unappall'd, 
 On the vast outlines of this coining doom 
 When all, that now in prophecy looks dead, 
 Leaps into life and acts the part sublime ! 
 But, the great BATTLE OF ALMIGHTY GOD, 
 By visions pictured, and by prophets sung, 
 And with whose muffled roar the Bible rings, 
 Who shall presume its awfulness to paint? 
 Then, the LAST HEAD of desolated Rome 
 Under his banner, with his kingdoms ten, 
 And rebel nations rallied at his cry, 
 Shall front to front the God eternal meet 
 For battle; and beneath the blast divine 
 Down the deep hell of darkness and dismay 
 Descend for ever, to his doom accursed! 
 
 Thought cannot think, nor tongue of flesh describe 
 What yet is vision'd, that our souls may learn 
 The consummation of this hour decreed ! 
 But come He must the FAITHFUL and the TRUE, 
 To reap the harvest of that holy wrath 
 By him of Patmos fearfully portray'd. 
 Oh ! tells he not of that tremendous WORD 
 Whose NAME is written, but to man unknown; 
 Whose eye flames lightning; on Whose awful head 
 Were many crowns; and through the opening heavens 
 While paws the white horse his portentous way, 
 Lo ! how the wavings of that blood-dyed vest 
 Symbol the Lord himself a MAN OF WAR! 
 
262 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Of these, oh, tells he not, the loved St. John, 
 And writes a, Blessed! on the faith that hears 
 Believes, and watches, for this end decreed. 
 
 Then may we dare, one gaze of awe to send 
 Down that red lake of ever-living fire, 
 Where BEAST and PROPHET by the LORD are hurl'd 
 Aye in the burnings of unquenched wrath 
 To welter! never more on earth to rise, 
 Or witch with sorceries our world again. 
 Thy truth, O Christ ! be magnified with fear, 
 Thy work with conquering majesty be crown'd ; 
 For now the installation of Thy power 
 Approaches. Lo, the SEALS are open'd all, 
 The YIALS emptied, and the TRUMPETS blown : 
 And there, within unfathom'd depths of fire 
 Burned and blasted, lie all foes of truth, 
 All shapes of error, and all forms of sin 
 Which time hath marshall'd, or that Satan took! 
 Tyrants, and all the hell-hounds who have torn 
 The church to ruin, or her creed defiled 
 With falsehood, sunk and scattered are they now, 
 Extinct, and sepulchred in endless shame; 
 But THOU, O KING of Kings, and LORD of Lords ! 
 The lyric chant of sempiternal love 
 And wonder, let our hearts to THEE uplift 
 Incessant: join we, though with erring strain, 
 Those minstrelsies, like many waters loud, 
 That round about THY radiant throne resound 
 
THE DESTINIES OP ROME. 263 
 
 From saints and elders, in their white array, 
 The deathless thunder of a deep " AMEN! " 
 And " ALLELUJAH ! for the LORD doth reign/' 
 
 Thus, link'd with terrors, and with truths sublime 
 As Hebrew prophet on his watch-tower shaped 
 Or shadow'd, when the future's pall was lift 
 And summoned ages gave their secrets up 
 Before him, is the fall of papal Rome 
 Predestined: gulfd within a dread abyss 
 Of ruin, 'mid the shock of shaking thrones, 
 Empires and principles and banded powers, 
 Th' abominatress of the soul will sink 
 To black perdition. But a scene, array'd, 
 With grandeurs, more horrifically touch'd 
 By truth inspired, than Armageddon's fight, 
 E'en like an epilogue of closing awe 
 The Seer of Patmos now augustly brings, 
 For faith to witness. While the lake of doom 
 Ruffles its blazing surges of revenge, 
 O'er all the slain and sunken of the foes 
 Infernal, see ! from out yon cloven heavens 
 In dazzling outburst, like a lightning-break 
 Flashing at midnight through the ebon vault, 
 A dreadless Minister, from God dismiss'd 
 On errand, from the bright-winged Hosts on high : 
 And, down on earth the flaming herald comes; 
 In one hand, like the janitor of hell, 
 That key which locks the everlasting pit 
 
264 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Holding; but in the other, hark! the chain 
 Of darkness clanks its adamantine links 
 Resoundingly; and lo! the DRAGON old, 
 The ARCH-DECEIVER, whose traducing lie 
 Murder'd at once a world of priceless souls, 
 And libelFd Godhead, trembles in the grasp 
 Angelic : captive, chained, subdued and bound, 
 Hell's roaring LION is arrested now; 
 For him the angel, with stupendous force 
 Grapples; and, like a thunderbolt when dash'd 
 Through the rent ocean in her raging might, 
 Hurls him at once with archangelic speed 
 Down the deep pit of bottomless despair, 
 That burns and blackens, to receive his fall ! 
 
 Dungeon'd in darkness, for a thousand years 
 There shall he writhe; and, in the racking curse 
 Of judgment holy, shut and seaFd by wrath 
 Resistless, magnify the Son of God. 
 For, though on earth the conqu'ring blow was struck, 
 And Satan wounded, when the CHRIST was spearM, 
 While death in grasping at the GOD-MAN died 
 In prelude ; here, the radiance of far richer proof 
 How Christ hath conquer'd, terribly will show! 
 And tell it out to Systems, Souls, and Worlds 
 How much of DEICIDE in sin there dwells. 
 For, upward, when with God in contrast placed, 
 In principle, 'tis infinitely vile; 
 Though downward view'd, the act but finite be. 
 
THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 2tK> 
 
 And hence, no pang, but INFINITE, could pay 
 The debt unbounded to JEHOVAH due. 
 
 And ye, fair Spirits! who did faithful stand 
 When he, the primest of your splendours once, 
 Fell in proud treason, by confirming grace 
 In heaven to worship and on earth to wait 
 Yourselves are strengthened, through th' upholding 
 
 Christ. 
 
 Bright angels ! though all passionless and pure, 
 The peerless glory of the cross ye praise ; 
 And, with the saved and sanctified above 
 Circle the LAMB; while from celestial harps, 
 Your choral strains around His MERIT ring 
 Raptures, which make eternity to thrill 
 With truths, that tell the mystic FIGHT is o'er, 
 And CHRIST and CHURCH o'er chain'd Abaddon reign ! 
 
 But now, as one from fever-dreams awakes 
 Haunted by shades and shadows undefined 
 Yet fearful, making pale imagination shrink; 
 Once more to look upon the lustrous moon 
 Through the high lattice beaming, and to bathe 
 His wearied temples in the fresh-wing'd air 
 Exulting; so, from those stupendous glooms 
 And themes of awe, where reason stands abash'd 
 To take the soundings of eternal mind, 
 Back to the brightness of our earth we speed 
 Delighted ! Here, what living glories blaze, 
 2 A 
 
266 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 Above, below, what thronging splendours wait 
 
 Prophetic numbers might indeed rehearse; 
 
 And vision scenes, o'er which the harping Seers 
 
 Enchanted, roll'd their richest strains of song ; 
 
 And in the lulling dream of latter days 
 
 For this world destined, feel what Luther felt 
 
 On Pisgah heights prophetically rapt, 
 
 As oft he mused, and hail'd millennial times. 
 
 But all-expressionless the heart recoils, 
 Under a weight of glory melt all words 
 To muteness, when that imaged KINGDOM comes 
 On earth to be, what now the Bible types, 
 And tells of Purity's celestial reign. 
 Then shall indeed redemption's work respond, 
 And reach to ALL that revelation sings 
 In forms of matter, or in facts of mind 
 Yet to evolve. Creation's groan shall cease, 
 And life, and sense, and earth, and air, and sky 
 The coronation of our CHRIST reflect, 
 By the felt magic of His reign inspired 
 And hallow'd. Glory in the sun will beam 
 With seven-fold brilliance; and the placid moon 
 Glide through the mazes of the moving stars 
 With lustre deeper than rapt David saw, 
 By midnight harping; not a fruit, or flower 
 That bares its beauty to the prying breeze, 
 That will not, in th' overflowing love and light 
 Of earth's millenial consummation share. 
 

 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 267 
 
 For dust itself with DEITY combined 
 
 In Christ's own PERSON, doth Redemption prove; 
 
 And when He reigns, shall more than Adam saw, 
 
 Of brightness bloom and blessedness reveal. 
 
 But, oh ! if MATTER thus resplendent be, 
 
 Who can portray unaugurated MIND 
 
 By CHRIST install'd, beneath his sceptre rank'd 
 
 Vicegerent, under HIM perchance to rule! 
 
 And like as now THE CHURCH instructs the world 
 
 Though in her weakness; so, when thus complete, 
 
 And train'd to heights of intellectual Truth 
 
 By moral powers expansively sublime, 
 
 Entire creation from THAT CHURCH may learn 
 
 A pure instruction in the things profound 
 
 Of God: so will vast resemblance bind 
 
 Creation, Church, and Christ in one 
 
 Divine analogy of deepest awe. 
 
 For, e'en as CHRIST by mystic suffering grew 
 
 Up to the heights of his predestined rank 
 
 Official; so, will God's elect advance 
 
 By faint reflections of His threefold sway, 
 
 As Prophets, Priests, and Kings of other worlds 
 
 And systems; and this inorganic earth 
 
 A PLATFORM of material splendours prove, 
 
 Where beauty visible its throne shall set; 
 
 And o'er all worlds our own as model shine, 
 
 Where Matter triumph'd, and where Mind was train'd. 
 
 But whatsoe'er such thoughts be named, 
 
268 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 
 
 On the sure footing of the word inspired 
 
 Our hope we plant, and there this promise find 
 
 The Antichrist before the scorching blast 
 
 Of throned EMMANUEL shall to death consume ! 
 
 The Jew shall yet his bright Jerus'lem see, 
 
 And draw salvation from the Sides he pierced 
 
 When CHRIST on Calv'ry bore the bitter cross; 
 
 While ransom'd Gentiles their hosannahs join 
 
 The LAMB around; and resurrection-saints 
 
 Call'd from the dust to greet their living LORD, 
 
 A thousand years of coronation joy 
 
 With Christ in glory, shall on earth partake. 
 
 Till when at last, o'er sin, and Satan's host, 
 
 And earth rebellious, final judgment sets 
 
 That Seal tremendous, which for ever shuts 
 
 The perish'd in their prison-house of wo 
 
 And wrath unutter'd, earth and heaven shall reach I 
 
 A beauty endless, by baptismal fires 
 
 Recast; and clad with more celestial bloom 
 
 Than Sense can dream, or Inspiration tells! 
 
 Thus, all creation will MESSIAH bring 
 To full perfection, in its brightest form; 
 And back restore it to the heart of God 
 From whence it wander'd. There, His kingdom ends, 
 And Mediation down its sceptre lays, 
 For nought between us and the GODHEAD acts 
 Official. Face to face will Finite meet 
 The INFINITE; nor means nor modes be used. 
 

 THE DESTINIES OF ROME. 269 
 
 Nor Sacraments, nor teaching Symbols cast 
 'Tween God and Soul their intervening shade. 
 Jehovah's SELF will man's religion be, 
 His ATTRIBUTES our only Temple prove: 
 For, deep within their unimagined blaze 
 Enshrined for ever will our Spirit dwell; 
 And ALL in ALL direct JEHOVAH reign 
 SOUL of our Souls, ineffably intense ; 
 Till God in mind the mind of God begets, 
 And life Eternal be, HIMSELF enjoy'd! 
 
 2 A 2 
 
Jfarcfodl to fme. 
 
 BETWEEN the living and the dead, our life 
 Throbs like a brief vibration ; and how soon 
 This pendulum of anxious being stops ! 
 E'en in a moment, by some touch or tone 
 Arrested, lo, the life of sense concludes, 
 And we are launched beyond the tracking eye 
 To follow by the INFINITE absorb'd, 
 And in the secret of eternity ! 
 
 But yet, as though REALITY were here 
 Alone authentic, how the hollow show 
 Of things which eye, or ear can apprehend, 
 O'ercomes, and with monopolizing charm 
 The cheated mind attracts; and blunts the edge 
 Of fine perception, for the spirit's world 
 To come ! And, oh, how rarely hoping youth 
 Turns to the future a prophetic gaze 
 Beyond this earth of shadows ! Tomb on tomb 
 O'er life's descending pathway flings a shade; 
 And many a heart-ache to some fev'rish dream 
 Must pay sad homage, ere the mocks of time 
 Be scatter'd, and our nobler dreams of soul 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 271 
 
 Their reign commence, and teach the gay to think, 
 
 Shaping a destiny beyond the bounds 
 
 And mean horizon of this mournful world. 
 
 Then throbs the immortality of thought 
 
 Within us! Then adown the gulf unknown 
 
 Of being infinite, but undefined, 
 
 Our spirit looks with introverted eye, 
 
 By faith made holy; while we learn to feel, 
 
 That Body forms the prison-house of Soul, 
 
 And out of it the dead indeed are free. 
 
 And these are round us in ethereal hours 
 When earth recedes, and through the rents of time 
 Beyond the visible we dare to gaze, 
 And gather wisdom from a. world unseen, 
 But not unshadowed, by prophetic mind. 
 Then do all clouds of Sadducean tinge 
 Dissolve; and placidly our dreams recall 
 And the loved features of our dead recast ! 
 For they are round us in our moods enrapt : 
 By lonely shores, by melancholy seas, 
 At moonlight's trance, or sunset's dreamy close, 
 Down vaulted aisles or churchyard's cypress gloom 
 Slow pacing; or, beneath some pictured face 
 That looks our mem'ry into mourning sighs, 
 How often bend we o'er some form beloved ! 
 Or, by that resurrection which the heart 
 Rehearseth, we can bid their cherish'd tones 
 To wake, and hear their wonted footsteps glide ! 
 
272 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 But deep the thought, momentously sublime, 
 To think that not one pulse of conscious mind 
 That WILL DIVINE hath ever caused to play 
 In human being, hath a single rest 
 Experienced, since the primal throb began! 
 The spirit-people of the LAND UNSEEN, 
 Millions on millions though the number be, 
 Are conscious, more than when by flesh encased, 
 And clogg'd in action : not a soul's extinct ! 
 Still Adam thinks, still Alexander feels, 
 Caesar hath being, Cleopatra lives, 
 And those crown'd butchers whom the world calls 
 
 brave, 
 
 Are feeling more than when they battles fought : 
 Yes, all who have been, great, or good, or vile, 
 Patriarchs, prophets, and the lords of mind, 
 Heroes and warriors, and those laurell'd priests 
 Of truth, the poets of eternity, 
 All are a living, though a sightless, race; 
 Each in himself a hell, or heaven, become ! 
 For MIND is everlasting; and the MAN 
 Is there in essence, when all adjuncts fail. 
 Thus may the dead a more than sermon preach 
 To awe the living, and this truth impress, 
 That as we die, for ever we endure ! 
 The same in principal the heart abides: 
 For MORALS in their root continue ONE 
 And changeless, though the soul hath taken wing. 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 273 
 
 Two worlds thus claim us, by a sleepless law ; 
 But one moves round us, palpably instinct 
 With life and passion; and, alas! absorbs 
 In the wild vortex of its vain delight 
 What to the other, (though unseen) we owe 
 Of faith and conscience. Thus, for time we live 
 As well as in it ; thus our hearts deny 
 Eternity that waits behind the VEIL, 
 And when the living from our gaze retire, 
 We talk as though they lived not; but were quite 
 From BEING parted, as to sight no more ! 
 But, this is madness in the garb of sense ; 
 The blinding mock of Epicurean dreams, 
 Dilating time into eternity, 
 And which eternity to time contracts. 
 For faith and reason round this truth converge, 
 The dead are living; but, this life unheard, 
 U.nfelt, unknown, beyond our dreams to shape, 
 Or thought to model, can but little move 
 Man, by the flesh imbruted and enslaved. 
 
 Yet, be there moments when the heart exclaims, 
 Where are the DEAD? the MINDS who once look'd 
 
 forth 
 
 In light from eyes, in language from kind lips, 
 And, by the daring of immortal deeds, 
 Breathed on our own, like inspiration? Where, 
 Where be the SPIRITS, who once felt, and fear'd, 
 Who dream'd, desired, and acted like ourselves, 
 
274 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 Where have they fled ? In blank absorption, lost \ 
 Merged in the infinite, engulf d, or gone ? 
 Melted to nothingness? Is this their doom? 
 Oh! wait awhile: for, e'en as wintry earth 
 By the green outburst of her glorious spring, 
 Hidings of heavenly power in nature's breast 
 Infolded, proves so this material scene 
 Of earthly visible and sensual vain, 
 With hidden radiance of celestial life 
 Our God will garment ; for the reign of saints 
 Shall yet be witnessed, shining over all 
 Conspicuous, with a glory undescribed ; 
 The shell of matter shall at once remove, 
 Like a strange dream the visible depart, 
 And, lo, at once the quick on earth will stand 
 By angels circled, and by saints enthrong'd, 
 And in the midst, CHRIST paramount appear! 
 
 Meanwhile the bodiless in secret live 
 Till all be rife, for this revealing act 
 Of sudden, swift, and strange .apocalypse. 
 HOLY OF HOLIES ! in thy shrine august 
 High o'er all heavens, ethereally removed 
 From man's conception, dwell the dead redeem'd. 
 There, the saved myriads of the seal'd first-born 
 Present with CHRIST, from Him perchance acquire 
 (As to and fro the beatific host 
 He moves, and ministers the food of thought) 
 Truths which on earth experience did not gain. 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 275 
 
 Patriarchs who dimly on the distant CHRIST 
 
 Gazed in a promise, now with clearness look 
 
 On HIM they long'd to worship ; prophets too, 
 
 The meaning and the majesty of strains 
 
 Mysterious, these by ACTUAL Christ expound; 
 
 Types are resolved, and shadowy rites unveil'd; 
 
 The mystic LAMB on typing altars laid, 
 
 And gospel, by Aaronic priesthood taught, 
 
 The great ORIGINAL doth here unfold, 
 
 And proves HIMSELF sole archetype of all. 
 
 While they who died in dimness, or dismay, 
 
 (Haunted by fears, and harrow'd to the last 
 
 By many a tremour,) in restoring beams 
 
 Of comfort, look upon their LORD, and live. 
 
 And there, is CONCORD! all those hostile notes 
 
 Of human dissonance, which now destroy 
 
 The solemn harmonies of sainted Minds, 
 
 These doth the LORD by melodizing grace 
 
 Attune to oneness, till all souls agree. 
 
 Thus may that world where parted spirits meet, 
 
 A school of saintship for the church elect 
 
 Be found : there may Christ his priesthood act, 
 
 And God's magnificence of truth unveil; 
 
 Or, more and more the MERIT of His blood 
 
 Teach to the Spirits, who around Him throng. 
 
 And, bound they not with throbs of burning joy 
 
 Their hearts within them, while th' INCARNATE shows 
 
 His wounds, how deep! His mercy, how divine! 
 
 Till round that SAVIOUR rapt hosannahs rise, 
 
276 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 And, in the minstrelsy of heaven, we hear, 
 "WORTHY THE LAMB! FOR HE WAS SLAIN FOR us," 
 Down the deep ages of eternity 
 Roll like a torrent of melodious praise. 
 
 And to this world, around whose vision'd scene 
 Our thoughts have trembled, Luther's wearied soul 
 Advances; soon will that tried heart repose 
 In peace, beyond the loudest blast of time 
 To ruffle. Twice some thirty years have delved 
 Deep on his open brow their wrinkling trace; 
 And often hath he died in thought, and pray'd 
 At home with Jesus in the heavenly clime 
 To have his welcome! Hopes beyond this world 
 To wither, far above the earth have borne 
 His spirit; in the balance of the truth 
 Its visions and its vanities he weigh'd, 
 And, found them wanting ! Warn'd by heaven, 
 
 waits 
 
 A kind dismissal to his last long home: 
 For there, how many have before him fled, 
 And seem to hail him from their thrones of grace 
 Celestial! 'Tis not that proud murmurs rise 
 From out that noble spirit; but the hue 
 Of life's pale sunset, (whose foreboding charm 
 So often doth our parting hour predict,) 
 O'ershades the present with a holy gloom. 
 Youth with the living loves gay converse bright; 
 Age with the dead can high communion hold; 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 277 
 
 Nor calls it mournful, when the graves unclose 
 Their treasures, when departed friendship rise, 
 While votive mem'ry drops the valued tear 
 Which feeling gathers in some aged eye. 
 
 And such, perchance, within the pensive gaze 
 Of Luther glisten'd, when in hoary eld, 
 Bowed with care, and pierced with many a pang 
 Increasing, in that very home of youth 
 Again he enters, where a foodless boy, 
 Through Eisleben from house to house he sang 
 For bread! and dropt unseen the bitter tear 
 That moistened it, when cast from churlish hands. 
 There at his window, on the wintry heavens 
 Bleak with the blast, and white with flaking snow, 
 Dejectedly his deep-set gaze he fix'd; 
 While heaved his spirit with a swell of prayer 
 How richly grateful ! On his frame oppress'd 
 Chill age was falling; and both* languid nerves 
 And feeble sense, a boding symptom gave 
 That soon with him the silver cord would loose, 
 And bowl be broken at the fountain-head! 
 But not for this repined he; for THE CHURCH 
 He mourn'd; and sighingly her doom forecast 
 That now was shadow'd, in the stormful creeds 
 Around him raging. Thus, an autumn tinge 
 Sadden'd the future with prophetic shades 
 Of wo, and weakness ; till at times he long'd 
 Like Simeon, now in solemn peace to part, 
 2 B 
 
278 
 
 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 And on the bosom of his Lord expire. 
 His work is done, his warfare is complete; 
 And from eternity there seem'd to sound 
 A bugle-note, that challenged his retreat 
 Home to the heaven salvation's CAPTAIN won ! 
 
 But, what a throng of thoughts, unheard, unknown 
 That moment of mysterious calm besieged ! 
 There, in the centre of all boyish dreams 
 And hours departed, there he mused, and pray'd ; 
 Or, the long windings of his wondrous life 
 Haply with tears retraced, with sighs renewed, 
 And God in shade and sunshine equal saw, 
 Guardian, and guide and glory of his days 
 Perpetual ! Like a fated life had been 
 The vast experience of his varied course, 
 From lowly nothing to that Alpine height 
 Of fame and influence, where his manhood climb'd 
 And age was resting * scarce had patriarch's dream 
 Or prophet's vision, more of strange and stern 
 And deeply awful, in the things of God beheld 
 Or suffer'd, than the Saxon Monk endured, 
 From faithful Enoch down to fearless Paul! 
 For, when had GOD His IMPRIMAMUR put 
 With brighter proof, than on the boundless WORK 
 Than now o'er kings and kingdoms, man and mind 
 Breathed of brave Luther, wheresoe'er it came ? 
 Sinful, indeed, before THAT EYE he felt 
 In whose bright ray the heavens unclean appear; 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. t 279 
 
 But faithful to his Christ, and creed, and cause 
 Mercy had kept him, and to THAT he gave 
 The crowning merit of the mighty whole. 
 
 Around the axle-tree of TRUTH alone 
 He well remember'd that his life revolved; 
 And THAT, is moveless! 'mid the mightiest whirl 
 Of vexing circumstance, or varied scene. 
 'Twas thus a power of retrospective peace 
 Besooth'd him, when he felt no black reproach 
 From craft, or compromise, could blast him now ; 
 Or round his death-couch bring one dismal shade. 
 Firm had he lived, and faithful would he die; 
 In life unblemished, and in death the same! 
 
 And if the chamber where the humblest yield 
 The burden of this being up to God, 
 
 Down to the roots of tenderness awakes 
 Affection's nature ; if the feeblest 1 mind 
 That hovers on the precipice of time, 
 When beetling o'er INFINITY below 
 
 I Takes to itself some attributes, which speak 
 Of awe and grandeur; can we gather round 
 That bed of glory where a Luther dies, 
 Nor feel an inspiration? Can we mark 
 That eagle spirit, from its chain unbound, 
 In light and liberty from this dim world 
 Escaping, nor, a solemn thrill partake 
 Speechless, but how expressive ! There he lies, 
 
280 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 Pale in the swoon of swift-approaching death : 
 But mind is yet majestic; and his brilliant eyes 
 From the black lustre of their mental fire 
 Alive with feeling, look forth prayer, and shine 
 Conscious and clear as ever! while the lips 
 Move with the verse, that on MESSIAH'S once 
 Quiver'd in peace, when David's words of faith 
 Wing'd His worn spirit to the breast of God. 
 
 Deeper and deeper do the shades of death 
 Around him close, while drop th' fainting lids 
 O'er his sunk eyeballs; thickly heave and fall 
 Those panting breath-gasps; while the ear of love 
 Drinks with delight some shatter'd tones, or sighs 
 Of Bible promise, or some falter'd notes 
 Of faith, which tell the spirit's life within. 
 The strife is mortal, but the strength divine 
 That meets it! Death, all stingless, and the law, 
 All dreadless, neither can from Luther's heart 
 Hurl the high confidence, a Christian seats 
 There on the throne of evangelic truth. 
 Around him friends and mourners, each with sobs 
 Half stifled, and with tears that hang unshed 
 On the still'd eyelids of revering love, 
 Are group'd ; while bands of waiting angels watch 
 The mighty spirit into glory pass ! 
 Cold is the damp that dews his whit'ning brow, 
 And pains convulse him with continuous rack; 
 But underneath that palpitating flesh 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 281 
 
 Calm lies the soul! in peace celestial bathed, 
 
 Though clay and spirit sunder. Hark! again 
 
 The last weak cry of lingering nature lifts 
 
 A dying homage to the truth divine; 
 
 And then, on yonder kneeling forms and friends 
 
 Before him, falls one faint and farewell gaze, 
 
 And, all is over! while his features fix 
 
 Their pale expression into placid trance. 
 
 No sigh is heard, nor groan, nor shudder comes; 
 
 But speechless, and with hands devoutly lock'd, 
 
 And mute as monumental prayer, he lies, 
 
 A dead IMMORTAL, deep in glory now! 
 
 How hush'd, how holy, how intensely rapt, 
 As though the blood would listen as it flow'd, 
 Till the brain rocks, and checked emotion reels, 
 That moment is, when first mysterious DEATH 
 In full development his form unshrouds 
 Solemn, and stern! And there, yon reft ones bend 
 Moveless, and pale, like shapes of sculptured wo 
 O'er breathless Luther : each, by curb of thought, 
 The big sensation from outbursting cry 
 Restraining; not a tone of anguish breaks 
 The silence; wordless on his brow they gaze; 
 So still, that breath doth audibly intrude, 
 And loudly strange their living heart-beats play 
 O'er THAT beneath them, pulseless, and at peace. 
 
 Behind our veiling drapery of sense 
 2 B2 
 
282 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 Baffled we are from darting forth one glance 
 
 Of mental knowledge ; or the heart, methinks, 
 
 Might dream, when Luther's disembodied soul 
 
 Pass'd from the flesh, to join the spirit-throng, 
 
 Eternity a fine impression felt; 
 
 And the high dead, instinctively commov'd, 
 
 Did welcome him to glory, as he took 
 
 His throne among them, like a sainted King! 
 
 Oh ! 'twas an hour, that in itself an age 
 Condenseth; for untold sensations vast 
 From deep infinity came struggling up! 
 Shadows of soul, and shapes which conscience eyes, 
 From moral depths which seldom are disclosed 
 Emerge, and to and fro the spirit's hall 
 Glide, like the ghosts of awful THINGS to come ; 
 Till, lo, their buried pang itself untombs 
 In language ; and their load of stifled grief 
 Rolls from the heart, to be unloosed in tears. 
 
 And let them fall! their tributary flow 
 Is nature's litany of weeping hearts. 
 For there th' ELIJAH OF THE GOSPEL lies! 
 And rarely to the spirit's home hath fled 
 From this low earth, a loftier SOUL than he 
 The lion-hearted Luther! Never more 
 That princely mind with gen'rous pang shall bleed : 
 He sleeps in Jesus, but he wakes to God, 
 Chanting in heaven the song on earth he sung, 
 

 FAREWELL TO TIME. 283 
 
 " Worthy the Lamb ! for HE was slain for me !" 
 The race is o'er, the goal immortal reach'd; 
 Servant of Light, and vassal of its Lord, 
 Him hath THE MASTER with the host above 
 United, calFd, rewarded, and resumed 
 Back to THE BOSOM whence his graces flow'd. 
 
 And let the pope and priest their victor scorn, 
 Each fault reveal, each imperfection scan, 
 And by their fell anatomy of hate 
 His life dissect, with satire's keenest edge, 
 And yet may Luther with his mighty heart 
 Defy their malice, though it breathe of hell ! 
 If soul majestic, and a dauntless mien ; 
 If faith colossal, o'er all fiends and frowns 
 Erect; if energy that never slack'd, 
 With all that galaxy of graces bright 
 Which stud the firmament of Christian mind ; 
 If these be noble, with a zeal conjoined 
 That made his life one liturgy of love, 
 Then may the Saxon, from his death-couch send 
 A dreadless answer that refutes all foes 
 Who dwarf his merit, or his creed revile 
 With falsehood. Far beyond them soars the soul 
 They slander ; from his tomb there still comes forth 
 
 [ A Magic that appals them by its power; 
 
 ; And the brave monk who made the Popedom rock, 
 Champions a world to show his equal yet! 
 
284 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 Luther is dead ! and, like the CHURCH'S knell 
 Booms the sad tale in Europe's startled ear : 
 Princes are struck with consternation's chill, 
 And, trembles now the Reformation's ark! 
 But, turn we most to see Melancthon's tear, 
 Sacred as ever dropp'd from friendship's eye. 
 Nations alone the great REFORMER knew, 
 But he the MAN had loved, and mourn'd him now 
 As David over Jonathan bemoan'd, 
 Passing the grief of woman ! 'Twas th' eclipse 
 Of earth's best sunshine, when his Luther died : 
 For, years had tried them with severest test, 
 And at each close, more fervidly in faith 
 Had left them; therefore, what but soothing Heaven 
 The aching tumult of his harrow'd mind 
 Can hush, and soften into sacred calm? 
 Theirs was a friendship, which no earthly soil 
 Can prosper; out of heavenly seed it sprang, 
 And bloom'd unwither'd, 'mid the blight and blast 
 Of cold earth's changes. Each to each a grace 
 Imparted, which apart they did not wield; 
 Their light was varied, but their love was one; 
 And the mild discord of commingled souls 
 In friendship made the harmony more sweet; 
 While o'er the failings of their mutual hearts 
 The garment of sweet charity was thrown, 
 And hid them. Thus, not Luther in his mood 
 Tempestuous, when the lawless rage ran high, 
 From mild Melancthon forced one bitter tone; 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 285 
 
 For, soon that tempest of a moment sank 
 To loving silence ; forth the rainbow smiled ! 
 And rich good humour cast its rosy gleam 
 O'er the brief gloom a frowning word begot. 
 And thus 'twill ever be, when hearts are true 
 As tender; frankly bold and freely plain, 
 'Tis not in natures, when by Christ attuned, 
 A smile forgiving from a fault confest 
 To darken: love is here our safest creed; 
 For kindness forms the talismanic key, 
 Opening the heart well-lock'd to all beside. 
 
 Luther is dead; and lone Melancthon weeps; 
 And, reader! hast thou no responsive tear 
 With his to mingle ? Is thy gone career 
 Tombless? and over no departed friend 
 Heaves the green turf? And is thy present hung 
 With no sad cypress, over perish'd joys, 
 Or faded dear ones into dust relapsed ? 
 Alas! the heart's Necropolis is filled 
 With many a tomb by memory's votive hand : 
 And where is he, that miracle of joy, 
 In age partaking all his childhood had 
 Of household blessing, or parental bliss ? 
 Oh ! long ere wintry years the head have hoar'd ; 
 Or, thoughts their furrows in the forehead ploughed, 
 Eternity with time, at least divides 
 Our friendships. Heaven has oft the better half 
 Of hopes that brighten'd, or of hearts that blest 
 
286 FAREWELL TO TIME. 
 
 Our life's fair morning ! Soon the world grows strange ; 
 
 And bleak, and barren do our pathways grow 
 
 As more and more they wind us to the grave ! 
 
 And well, if friendship only be the loss 
 
 We suffer; oft, alas! our feelings too 
 
 Are petrified to apathetic frost; 
 
 The heart's a bankrupt, though the head be rich ; 
 
 While all those young simplicities of soul 
 
 That lay on character's expanding buds, 
 
 Like drops of morning, in their freshness bright, 
 
 Exhale, and leave an autumn-waste behind. 
 
 Not such were thine, Melancthon ! Round thy grief 
 A radiant hope of sweet re-union shined, 
 In that high world of tearlessness and truth, 
 Where all of heavenly that on earth we lose 
 Again shall greet us; and a glory wear 
 Perfect and bright, beyond our purest mind 
 Below to witness. There, shall friend with friend, 
 And babe with mother, son with sire, renew 
 In blest revival, unforgotten love. 
 Partings below will soon to meetings turn, 
 And serve as foils to set their gladness off 
 Hereafter, when the soul's embraces blend! 
 And there are moments, mystically deep, 
 When time anticipates eternity, 
 Making the Easter of our mem'ry bright 
 Rise on the heart, with resurrection's bloom. 
 Bodied, and bodiless, can thus converge, 
 
 
FAREWELL TO TIME. 287 
 
 Whene'er to worship at the THRONE we bow, 
 Or sigh, or speak some lonely prayer of love, 
 Soothed by soft dreams of well-remember'd times. 
 There, round that CENTRE of our common LORD 
 The dear and dead ones of the heart revive; 
 Inhale together one surpassing peace, 
 And bathe their spirits in one blended joy 
 Supernal: friendships, thus in soul, remain 
 When tombs have swallow'd all the senses clasp'd. 
 So can the living with the dead commune, 
 |^.nd cheat the grave of half its vict'ry here ; 
 While love in Christ, divinely thus will prove 
 ton earth the brightest, as in heaven the best. 
 
fort's Introspect, antr pitriot 1 * (Conclusion. 
 
 NATURE alone, is universal want; 
 
 But how to fill it, man can never find, 
 
 Till heaven instruct him. Sin a gap hath made, 
 
 Which all the glory that below the skies 
 
 Our dreams can image, or some vast desire 
 
 In deeds embody, cannot ever close. 
 
 The happy are the holy; none besides! 
 
 But, God in man plants holiness complete: 
 
 Life from THE SPIRIT, by His word imbreathed, 
 
 Like to a soul within a soul must reign, 
 
 Or, at the best, humanity is base; 
 
 Her lights are cold, her attributes eclipsed, 
 
 And all her high prerogatives a cheat! 
 
 Yet, man himself a moral Croesus thinks, 
 And from Ms power perfected being longs 
 To frame, or fashion. Hence, the world has tried 
 The hunger of the heart with food to feed, 
 Drawn from the depths of that presumed supply 
 It seems to master. But the effort fails; 
 And time recorded but repeats the tale 
 Of mutual wants, by mutual pride befool'd 
 
A POET'S RETROSPECT. 289 
 
 With false supplies, which took the name of good 
 
 But never reached its nature ! till at length, 
 
 Giants in faith, (by God himself equipp'd) 
 
 With mental grasp magnificently wide 
 
 And wondrous, on the stage of manhood rise; 
 
 [And these at once, like INCARNATIONS seem 
 
 Of all that Cent'ries in their sighs invoked, 
 
 Or truth had vision'd as the master-shape 
 
 In which to cast our virtues. What was once 
 
 An aimless yearning, or a blind desire 
 
 Haunting the heart with perturbation wild, 
 
 Is now personified by form express 
 
 And open; want hath now a PRIEST obtain'd 
 
 HTo vent the truth, to give abstraction voice, 
 
 And body forth, intelligibly plain, 
 
 Sorrows which pleading ages have deplored. 
 
 And such was Luther, when the clock of time 
 Sounded the hour for his decreed approach : 
 He was the MOUTHPIECE of oppressed mankind, 
 A great INTERPRETER of tongueless wants 
 ; And pains, that lack'd an intellectual power 
 Their own profundity to tell, or prove. 
 Yet, PRELUDES were there, which portended change ; 
 Some dawning heralds of a deeper life, 
 Diviner morals, and a purer creed, 
 Ere the lone Monk from out his convent peal'd 
 Those thunder-claps of theologic truth, 
 That startled Leo from a sensual trance; 
 2 c 
 
290 
 
 A POET 8 RETROSPECT, 
 
 And shook the Vatican, with such a force 
 That yet its walls do vibrate with the shock 
 They gave them ! though three hundred years 
 Have swept their wings o'er Martin Luther's grave. 
 There was a ripple in the mental tide 
 Awaken'd ; streams of holier thought began 
 With sudden freshness and more sweeping force, 
 Heavenward and onward through the heart to roll : 
 Till lo! at length, a MASTER-MIND proceeds 
 Forth from the secrecies of convent-life, 
 In whom the SPIRIT of the age can find 
 An INCARNATION of itself prepar'd 
 Its mind to utter, and its motion wield. 
 
 And we, who now the Reformation scan 
 Mellow'd by time, and by experience tried, 
 No random impulse, no erratic move 
 Aimless and blind, in that achievement hail; 
 But rather a MOMENTUM, pure and deep, 
 From DEITY Himself directly sent 
 To nature, that her inmost heart might wake ! 
 Reason and Man were agencies alone ; 
 They acted nought but instrumental parts: 
 One GREAT DIRECTOR did o'er all preside; 
 But yet invisible, behind the veil 
 Of mental drapery, His guiding hand 
 Arrested, moved, and modified the work 
 "With sacred watch incessant. Hence the CAUSE 
 (Beyond the creed of calculating souls,) 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 291 
 
 So often grew mysteriously begirt, 
 And mantled round with difficulties that mock'd 
 All human gazers; hence the high result 
 Proved not indeed what Romish annals feign 
 Mere anarchy from man's revolted mind, 
 Heady and proud, by lawless will inspired : 
 
 I Nor was it but the negative excess 
 Of haughty reason, with disdainful ire 
 All ritual forms, time-hallow'd and adored, 
 Trampling to dust : for then, the WORK had died 
 E'en in its birth, as imposition blind 
 As baseless; founded in no faith or law, 
 And tinged with nothing but sectarian hues 
 Petty and partial. No, THE TRUTH was there! 
 And from that centre, like a scriptural heart, 
 Recovered GRACE with throbs of doctrine sent 
 A gospel life-blood through the gen'rous whole. 
 And thus, th' Almighty did HIMSELF inspire 
 The Reformation; though unheard, unseen 
 And unimagined, in the midst He moved, 
 While Luther was the mental HAND that made 
 The outward INDEX of His secret will. 
 
 [ And what makes hist'ry, but that WILL evolv'd, 
 In fact embodied, or in form contain'd? 
 
 f When thus perused, the page historic glows 
 With life intelligent, with force divine ; 
 But, when apart from Heaven's presumed DECREE 
 The glooms or glories of the world we scan, 
 Our creed must be confusion : then the Church 
 
292 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Matter and Mind alone can e'er display 
 
 To faith or feeling. Hist'ry's life is God : 
 
 All second causes are the first disguised; 
 
 And great RESULTS, though man sole master seem, 
 
 Are but mere echoes which His WILL repeat. 
 
 And oh, how thrilling! touch'd with solemn awe, 
 Or pregnant with philosophy how deep 
 Are Time's events, when thus divinely read ! 
 Here is the harmony of things obtain'd, 
 When from the CROSS pure explanations flow ; 
 For here a PRINCIPLE itself reveals 
 Ethereal, pure, magnificent, and plain, 
 That binds with concord and embraces all 
 That else looks chaos, in the life of things. 
 Yea, such the homage to a God believed 
 Empires and nations in His hand to hide, 
 That pagan Instinct canonized the creed, 
 Ere GOD in gospel to the earth came down 
 His heart revealing. Never yet hath man 
 A wisdom high, or greatness holy sought, 
 But claimed he kindred with celestial LAW, 
 And by DIVINITY himself explained. 
 Thus, truth in time shall magnify the Cross, 
 Until the breast of God-revering man 
 Echo on earth the chant by angels sung 
 In glory, "KiNG OF KINGS! and LORD OF LORDS! 
 In Thee and For Thee, do all things consist 
 In souls or systems, or stupendous worlds!" 
 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 293 
 
 VINE OF THE CHURCH, whose mystic branches are 
 The host elect of sanctified and seal'd 
 Immortals, even so, as CHRIST is own'd, 
 Our light is safe, our liberty secure. 
 But when to human from divine we turn 
 With homage baseless; and to mortal breath 
 A blind religion blinder incense pays, 
 Our brightest health is but consumption's bloom ! 
 Faithful, or faithless, to her Lord as HEAD 
 And true SENSORIUM of all living grace, 
 E'en thus, as our beleaguered CHURCH hath stood, 
 Sublime in gifts or sunken into shame, 
 The bride of Jesus hath on earth displayed 
 Both form and features. To a threefold spring- 
 Religion only can for creed, or forms 
 Betake her: and that triple source all time 
 Illustrates, Man, or GOD, or Priest alone; 
 As is each master, so her fate hath been. 
 But when the priest his sacerdotal chains 
 (Forged from the links of apostolic truth 
 Perverted) round about pale conscience wove ; 
 When man, unsceptr'd of his kingly mind, 
 A mere automaton for ritual springs 
 To pull or play, as guile or gain inspired 
 Their priestly mover; when to such 
 The Esaus of the soul their birthright gave 
 Of faith, and freedom in salvation's gift, 
 Religion was the JAILER of mankind, 
 And bound the Spirit in a rotting gloom 
 2 c2 
 
294 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Of Christless errors. But when GOD appears 
 Again refulgent on a Throne of grace, 
 Revival wakens! and the truth reformed 
 By monk or martyr, is but Christ unveil'd: 
 PROPHET, and PRIEST, and KING of souls redeem'd 
 The church adores him. Then, her powers expand, 
 Her symbols preach, her sacraments revive; 
 Her truths HUMANITY contain, and clasp 
 With fine embraces of effective law 
 And love, commingled; then indeed, a GROUND 
 And PILLAR of the TRUTH she stands, and pleads : 
 Angels admire, and Devils cannot pluck 
 One ray of beauty from her righteous crown ! 
 For then, AMBASSADRESS from heaven to earth, 
 Glad tidings brings she on her mitred brow, 
 And with her full-toned GOSPEL : then erect, 
 In high pre-eminence o'er heart and head 
 She holds the SAVIOUR, crucified and crown'd. 
 Sinner and Sin, for each her creed presents 
 Befitting argument, both for God and man. 
 There, one is pardon'd, Mercy be adored! 
 The other, punish'd, Justice own the doom ! 
 So in twin glory, Love and Law complete 
 Their vast expression; thus alike, can LAW 
 Glare from the cross a dreadful verdict down 
 On sin, on conscience and on coming doom; 
 While LOVE o'er all eclipsing radiance pours, 
 And MERCY in its rapt meridian shines! 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 295 
 
 But art thou not thus venerably graced, 
 Founded in CHRIST, and by apostles formed, 
 GLORY OF ENGLAND ! oh, my Mother Church, 
 Hoary with time, but all untouched in creed? 
 Firm to thy MASTER, with as fond a grasp 
 Of faith as Luther, with his free-born mind 
 Clung to EMMANUEL, doth thy soul remain. 
 But yet around thee scowls a fierce array 
 Of foes, and falsehoods; must'ring each their powers, 
 And all prepared, their hallelujahs base 
 Or bloody, o'er thy fallen towers to lift 
 Triumphantly. And well may thoughtful hearts 
 Heave with foreboding swell, and heavy fears 
 To mark, how mad opinion doth infect 
 Thy children; how thine apostolic claims 
 And love maternal, are regarded now 
 By creedless vanity, or careless vice. 
 For time there was, when peerless Hooker wrote 
 And deep soul'd Bacon taught the world to think, 
 When THOU wert paramount, thy cause sublime ! 
 And in thy life, all polity and powers 
 The Throne securing, or in law enshrined, 
 With all estates our balanced Realm contains, 
 In thee supreme, a master- virtue own'd 
 And honour'd. Church and State could then co-work 
 Like soul and body in one breathing form, 
 Distinct, but undivided; each with rule 
 Essential to the kingdom's healthful frame, 
 Yet both, in unity august and good 
 
296 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Together, under CHRIST their living HEAD 
 
 A hallow'd COMMONWEALTH of powers achieved. 
 
 But now in evil times, sectarian will 
 
 Would split the BODY, and to SECTS reduce 
 
 Our sainted Mother of th* imperial isles, 
 
 That have for ages from her bosom drank 
 
 Those truths immortal, life and conscience need. 
 
 But never may th' indignities of hearts 
 
 Self-blinded; or the autocratic pride 
 
 Of reason, by no hallowing faith subdued, 
 
 One lock of glory from her rev'rend head 
 
 Succeed in plucking: LOVE and AWE and TRUTH 
 
 Her doctrines preach with apostolic force; 
 
 Her creed is UNITY, her HEAD is Christ, 
 
 Her forms primeval, and her creed divine, 
 
 And CATHOLIC, that crowning name she wears, 
 
 In heaven revered, though unadmired below: 
 
 For GOD is catholic in love and law, 
 
 While man in both would mere sectarian prove, 
 
 And down the deeps of individual SELF 
 
 Would Christ, and Creed, and Calvary absorb ! 
 
 And signs there be of more stupendous gloom, 
 Frowning vast bodements over faith and forms 
 That once intact, by sanctity begirt, 
 O'erawed betrayal ! For a fitful heave, 
 A restless panting for the UNATTAIN'D 
 And UNDESCRIBED, both church and world betray. 
 Knowledge alone, from FAITH'S protective law 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 297 
 
 Divorced, must now sole educatrix be; 
 
 While the dread universe itself is tax'd 
 
 For sensual income, through its living range ! 
 
 Down from yon palace where the sun-king reigns, 
 
 Throng'd by his court of seasons, to the dust 
 
 Existence crumbles on her daily rounds, 
 
 All is for PROFIT ! money makes the man, 
 
 And man the money. Gold is England's GOD, 
 
 While brute SENSATION forms the people's Lord; 
 
 And men are mechanized to flesh-machines 
 
 For grinding incomes out of earth, and stones ; 
 
 Till glorious NATURE, (once by feeling thought 
 
 Creation's Urim, where young dreams consult, 
 
 And Thummim, whence poetic fancy drew 
 
 Replies unsyllabled, yet full of speech,) 
 
 Turns a mere platform, whence our food is drawn. 
 
 And sense may batten ! Thus depraved and sunk, 
 
 Our Cains in creed, our Deicides in mind 
 
 Who murder Godhead with their secret thought; 
 
 Or live as though his Attributes were dead, 
 
 Disarmed, or paralysed, religion hoot; 
 
 Scouting the FUTURE as the fancy's mock, 
 
 A poet's fiction, or a priest-born lie, 
 
 Venal as groundless ! Thus dare men conceive 
 
 That cash may do, what creeds have never done; 
 
 Till conscience is at length by lust betray'd, 
 
 And man, a moral ruin ! base arid blind, 
 
 Anarchic passion, and bereft despair. 
 
 Myriads be such whom sensual knowledge cheats, 
 
298 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 And depthless minds with most despotic craft 
 Beleague, and govern. But, amid this whirl 
 Of things; when all by ancient creed admired, 
 And called immortal, waxes dim and pale; 
 When law is weak, and legislation blind; 
 When guess-work dares all principle decry, 
 And time-hoared VERITIES, by heaven approved, 
 As props and pillars of a nation's weal, 
 Uprooted lie, by violation's grasp; 
 And SELF alone our practice BIBLE grows : 
 Lo ! in the midst of this spasmodic change 
 The CHURCH OF ENGLAND, like a bastion fronts 
 The warring elements, which round her rise ! 
 Secure, unbroken, urialarmed and calm; 
 And haply, if ordaining heaven decree, 
 The spirit's ORGAN, for restoring life 
 To Virtues dead, and Morals half extinct. 
 
 For, gathered into one expressive whole, 
 If language could articulate the mind, 
 What is the spring, the primal and profound 
 Of all commotion, strange, or deep, or strong ? 
 What is it, but the hunger of the HEART, 
 The moral famine of the foodless mind 
 For GOOD? a thirst beyond all worlds to soothe, 
 And all the cisterns of created joy 
 To quench ! But in the INFINITE of truth, 
 There may the intellect its rest attain ; 
 And in the INFINITE of love, the Will 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 299 
 
 Responsive adequacy alone can find. 
 But save in Christ, the RESERVOIR of souls 
 Believing, save in Him, the GREAT RELIEF, 
 Where can th' unresting heart repose enjoy? 
 For here, all aspirations can their echo meet, 
 Centre in calm, and reach consummate bliss. 
 But if that CHRIST in England's church be found, 
 In pulpit, sacrament and prayer enshrined, 
 Her Priesthood faithful, and her Powers expressed 
 With order'd grace, and discipline revered; 
 Then, in the hands of her o'erwatching LORD, 
 Yet may she bring to European heart 
 And spirit, that supply of nurturing truth 
 They need, but cannot name. And signs there be 
 Which stamp her, with significant effect, 
 TEACHER of nations, fated yet to draw 
 The future round her, as a central Ark, 
 Where light, and liberty, and law secrete 
 Their saving essence, to conserve the world. 
 For 'mid her faults of sin, and tottering faith, 
 Her stoops of weakness, and her starts of pride 
 Terrestrial, in her heart there nobly beat 
 The truths august protesting Luther voiced, 
 Like battle-tones, before the ear of kings ! 
 And what, if thus by fav'ring heaven endow'd, 
 The high deposit of THE FAITH she hold 
 Untarnish'd? Trial then may glory prove; 
 Safety and splendour may her conflicts crown : 
 
300 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 And what to mere arithmetic of sense 
 
 A future charg'd with blackest wo appears, 
 
 A true arena, where our church may stand 
 
 Fighting the battles of primeval faith 
 
 May be ; and grateful empires call her blest ! 
 
 And lo ! what symptomatic meanings throng 
 Round all who gaze intelligently calm 
 On men, or nations. Signs which preach with power 
 The sermons deep of Providence to time ! 
 See, Population, with enormous swell, 
 Increase a thousand ere the sun decline 
 Day after day; while space and time depart 
 Before the miracles, by modern speed 
 Enacted! Elements our vassals make; 
 And, like a war-steed harness'd and controll'd 
 Rein'd by proud science, lo, the bridled deep 
 Commerce to all her thousand ports conveys, 
 Rapid as winds can waft, or waters roll! 
 Empires with empires thus new contact form, 
 Powers with fresh powers, and minds with minds 
 
 embrace, 
 
 For vice or virtue; all in fusion meet 
 And mingle, ready to ignite, and blaze 
 Heavenward or Hellward, as the truth prevails 
 Or falters : while around this huge ferment, 
 Mark legislation to the lowest brink 
 Of sad humanity, her code direct ; 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 301 
 
 tiile wisdom pores, with speculation deep, 
 ound plans and prospects, where the mind may grow 
 ad learn to build a moral being up. 
 
 Here be the portents, which predict a change, 
 And solemn crisis; while the dormant east 
 (That home of apathy and ancient pride) 
 Wakes from her torpor, with mysterious life 
 And motion. What shall then the issue be, 
 When the world labours with some big EVENT 
 Radiant with bliss, or black with dreadful crime? 
 To GOD we leave it; but this may truth pronounce, 
 That Hell is forming, where His grace breathes not! 
 And let but once thy spark, rebellion ! fall 
 Down on the mass of unconverted minds, 
 By treason moulded, and by anarchs led 
 To lawless triumph, and the World must bear 
 SuiFrings untold, and horribly intense 
 Beyond what hist'ry hath in dread portray'd. 
 Then earth a pandemonium would present 
 Raging with lust, and reeking with revenge; 
 Till by her blood incarnadined, the World 
 Would be as godless as the fiend requires! 
 
 But this, in mercy, may our God forbid; 
 Nor leave the world a dungeon of despair. 
 And may our Church (by gracious heaven revived) 
 Hallow'd by love, her apostolic rank 
 Resume and dignify; and so present 
 2 D 
 
302 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Her mitred forehead, and her saintly mien 
 
 Untarnished, unattainted; safe alike 
 
 From popish rancour, and schismatic rent. 
 
 For in her shrine ETERNAL MORALS dwell; 
 
 And through her sacraments and creeds there flow, 
 
 As golden conduit-pipes of grace ordain'd, 
 
 Streams of high influence, fresh from heaven con- 
 
 ve/d. 
 
 But could the Mammons of our day succeed, 
 Unchurch the nation, prayer and praise destroy, 
 Silence the pulpit, and all means of grace 
 Baffle or blight, soon would Hell on earth 
 A more than rival in debasement, hail ! 
 For soul itself would putrify in sin ; 
 Or wither down to senselessness, and shame; 
 While MANHOOD, which the eye of faith declares 
 A true Shechinah where a shadow'd God 
 Dimly HIMSELF through mortal haze unfolds, 
 A mere hypothesis of breath and brain 
 Would be; a Paradox, in flesh array'd, 
 A baseless something, now baptized a Man ! 
 
 But in thy heart, heroic England! long 
 May Luther's voice and Luther's spirit live 
 Unsilenced, and unshamed. Thou peerless home 
 Of liberty and laws, of arts and arms, 
 Of learning, love and eloquence divine, 
 Where Shakspeare dreamt, and sightless Milton 
 soar'd, 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 303 
 
 Where heroes bled, and martyrs for the truth 
 Have died the burning death, without a groan; 
 Land of the beautiful, the brave, the free ! 
 Never, oh, never! round thy yielded soul 
 May damning popery its rust-worn chain 
 Of darkness rivet ; in the might of heaven 
 Awake! and, back to Rome's vile dungeon, hurl 
 Her shackles base and slavery abhorr'd! 
 Without the Bible, Britain's life-blood chills 
 And curdles ; in that book, and ~by that book 
 Almighty, freedom can alone be kept 
 From age to age, in unison with heaven. 
 Without it, life is but a lingering death, 
 A false existence that begets decay, 
 Or fevers only into restless life 
 Whose blood is madness, and whose breath despair ! 
 For not philosophy, with Attic grace 
 Bedeck'd, and dazzling; nor can science deep, 
 Sounding with searchful eye the vast abyss 
 Of things created ; nor politic weal, 
 Transcending all that earthly patriot dreams 
 Of pure, and perfect our great country guard : 
 And though our banners on the four winds waft 
 Defiance, in the face of this huge world; 
 Our swords flash victory, and our commerce vie 
 With more than Tyre, upon her throne of waves 
 Once free and famous, till our country prove 
 The banking-centre of all climes and creeds, 
 
304 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Reft of her Bible, not a drop remains 
 Of holy life-blood in the nation's heart ! 
 
 LAND OF THE LORD ! my own maternal isle ! 
 Still in the noontide of celestial love 
 Basking, beneath the cross of CHRIST adored; 
 How bounds the heart with patriotic throb 
 Devoted, till each pulse a prayer becomes, 
 When oft upon thy sea-dash'd cliff we stand, 
 While ships by thousands haunt thy favour'd shores, 
 And in their bosom half the world discharge 
 Of riches and of splendour ! GOD is thine 
 My country! faithful unto death be thou; 
 For He has made and magnified thy strength, 
 E'en like a SECOND PALESTINE, to prove 
 The Ark of scripture, where a Christless world 
 May find the truth that makes her spirit free ! 
 Thy bulwark is the Bible, in the heart 
 Of Britain, like a second heart enshrined 
 For inspiration, purity, and power: 
 And, long o'er principle, and law and weal, 
 O'er public virtue and o'er private life 
 May SCRIPTURE be sole paramount, and test; 
 The source and standard of majestic faith, 
 Where morals form, and whence our motives flow. 
 And thus, brave empire ! if thy church beloved 
 Firm to the truths the Saxon Paul restored 
 Tenaciously through blood and fire, remain; 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 305 
 
 Then, long as guardian waves begirt 
 
 Thy shores, or sunbeams o'er thy cornfields play; 
 
 While thy large soul with liberty exults 
 
 And brightens; will that CHURCH uninjured stand, 
 
 Saintly and solemn, by the wise revered, 
 
 By great men hallowed and by good ones blest. 
 
 And never may thy touching sabbath-bells 
 
 No echo in thy children's hearts awake; 
 
 When pealing softly with a pensive chime, 
 
 Or deep-toned cadence o'er thy hills and dales, 
 
 Cities and towns and hamlets far away, 
 
 They bid us feel what Luther's genius won; 
 
 Who pluck'd our sabbaths out of papal mire, 
 
 And gave to myriads, GOD'S own day of rest, 
 
 Pure as the one my page shall vision now. 
 
 For, see! from out the radiant east, that blooms 
 As if with blossoms of carnation'd light, 
 The rose of morning blushes into hues 
 Of purpling splendour, till the arch of heaven, 
 Serenely mantled with one glow immense 
 Of opal lustre, tells that day is born, 
 And that, a sabbath : sacred be its dawn ! 
 To all who welcome with accorded rites 
 Its high mementos, and its claims august. 
 And oh, how numb'd with earth's torpedo sway 
 The minds that will not, in the saintly prime, 
 Of this rapt morning feel how GOD hath framed 
 The world without intelligibly fit, 
 2 D2 
 
306 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 By living concord, to the world within! 
 
 Now, matter seems a paraphrase on mind : 
 
 We pour our spirit into sounds and scenes, 
 
 Greeting creation, like an echo'd self 
 
 In forms repeated, for poetic eyes 
 
 Or hearts of high-strain'd purity, to hail, 
 
 And now most delicate, from out the spirit's depths 
 
 Unsyllabled imaginations rise, 
 
 With thoughts, that in their trepid beauty hang 
 
 Faintly and freshly on the virgin mind, 
 
 From whence we know not. Sacramental hour, 
 
 Hail to thy glories ! for the LORD is thine, 
 
 And all things of his plastic SPIRIT breathe. 
 
 The very sunbeams do their sabbath keep; 
 
 So hush'd and holy is the bright-hair'd morn, 
 
 While balm and beauty through creation's breast 
 
 Are now prevailing ! Nature's typic calm 
 
 To sabbath-keeping hearts it thus presents; 
 
 Who early at the grave of Jesus watch 
 
 Like Mary, to behold her rising LORD. 
 
 We call it fancy, but it comes like fact 
 
 Full on our spirits with seductive power, 
 
 That nature's heart sabbatically greets 
 
 The day in seven, which tones the other six 
 
 With virtue, e'en as man is wont to do. 
 
 Now melt the heavens, magnificently soft, 
 Through the deep eye that loves to drink their hues 
 Like draughts of lustre ; till the flooded gaze 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 307 
 
 Overflows with splendour, and grows dim with light; 
 The larks renew their matins; while the humbler 
 
 birds 
 
 Send hallelujahs to the King of morn 
 Tiny and broken, but replete with praise ; 
 Who, now uprising from his throne of clouds, 
 Bares his red forehead to the greeting world ! 
 The viewless finger of the fairy wind 
 Wanders about, and with a dimpling touch 
 Ripples a stream; or tunes the air to song, 
 Till like an anthem by the breezes sung 
 Fancy admires it : but for this, all earth 
 Is cover'd o'er with meditation's calm, 
 Solemn as in some hoary minster dwells; 
 And if no waving elegance of trees 
 With falt'ring motion; nor, the lisping talk 
 Of flowers wind-ruffled; nor the mellow tones 
 Of gliding waters, in their graceful flow 
 Broke the blest calm, 'twere all a perfect trance 
 In sweetest emblem of this hallo w'd morn. 
 But if from rustic solitude we turn 
 To where, through parted hills old Ocean bares 
 His breast of waters to the mantling sun, 
 Thou hast no sabbath, ever-rolling sea ! 
 At once 'tis witness'd; but methinks thy waves 
 Pant like the heavings of a heart, that swells 
 And pulses heavenward with unspoken prayer. 
 
 But day advances : hark ! from tower and spire, 
 
308 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Pointing the soul like principles to Heaven 
 And happiness what many- voiced bells 
 Peel their high summons, which invite the world 
 To meet her MAKER, in His temple shrined 
 Waiting due worship. Oh, ethereal DAY, 
 Beyond the grossness of barbaric sense 
 Rightly to value; what a blighted scene, 
 Yea, what a prison- vault of petty cares, 
 Polluted dreams, and unbaptized joys 
 Would earth, if Sabbathless, at once become ! 
 For if throughout infinity we feel 
 And act, by conscious glory to our GOD 
 Conjoined; or, of divinity amerced 
 The gnawing worm of conscience must endure, 
 Then, priceless is the Sabbath! and we hail 
 The soul of six days in the seventh divine. 
 
 To let th' Eternal o'er the temporal cast 
 A shading awe, that bids this world away; 
 And Earth to Heaven by aspiration's wing 
 To lift; by symbols and by signs to charm 
 Cold nature, and imagination feed 
 With rites that nourish for ennobling growth * 
 Its being; then, by combination due 
 Of epochs high, traditions pure, and faith 
 Unblemish'd from a gospel-fountain drawn, 
 Here is the function which a sabbath fills: 
 Together with appliances devout 
 Of praise, confession, penitence, and prayer 
 
tAND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 309 
 
 t bathes the conscience in the crimson blood 
 TESUS, who can such a Day blaspheme, 
 Thus propertied with those divinest powers 
 That, to the roots of all which makes 
 A people holy, or an empire wise, 
 Sends a live influence from religion's heart? 
 
 'Tis chiefly by this institute sublime, 
 Sanctioned by GOD, and by HIMSELF first kept, 
 The SOUL'S position in the truth appears 
 E'en AS it is, before Omniscient Mind. 
 Now are we taught, by rites and facts reveal'd ; 
 ; Or by appeals, whose virtue is THY pang 
 j EMMANUEL ! by a hidden grace applied, 
 A truth which humbles, yet with holy might 
 Meetens and melts the heart to bear the doom 
 Celestial ; e'en this truth, of all the base 
 In moral code or creed religious found, 
 "That God made man, but man himself unmade;" 
 \ And now is fallen from supernal heights 
 Of being, into curs'd and carnal depths 
 Apostate, helpless, hopeless, and impure, 
 And having nothing but a guilt, his own ! 
 Oh verity! beyond our solving minds 
 To master, but by all things sign'd, and seal'd ; 
 For nature providence and grace combine 
 Their witness, and authenticate the FALL : 
 Explaining much, itself is unexplain'd ; 
 Remains a myst'ry, but all myst'ries lights 
 
310 
 
 A POET S RETROSPECT, 
 
 With radiance, pure as reason's eye approves. 
 
 Deny it what a libel on the love 
 
 Almighty, does this blasted Earth become ! 
 
 So much of grandeur in our grief abides ; 
 
 So much of glory in our gloom appears ; 
 
 And in the soil of our corrupted soul 
 
 So oft the foot-prints of departed GOD 
 
 Leave shining impress of their primal track, 
 
 That if not fallen, but in form of mind 
 
 MAN in his perfect God-created mould 
 
 Be yet apparent, what a satire then 
 
 On power creative, seems this anarch state ! 
 
 Or rather by such contradiction judged, 
 
 Lunatic angels, seraphim gone mad 
 
 Would men be christened, if no beam from heaven 
 
 Lightened the gloom of this chaotic world. 
 
 And therefore, glory to this day benign! 
 For now eternity and time will meet, 
 The heavenly on the earthly state shall dawn; 
 And man, who in the mass and multitude 
 Of work-day powers, and worldly movements, makes 
 Too often but an item unobserved, 
 Here in the TEMPLE, where a church becomes 
 A shrine of morals to consulting Hearts, 
 Himself shall realize, as full-orb'd MAN ! 
 Single and one, within him hiding depths 
 Of solemn, vast and individual life 
 Beyond all utt'rance! Life which few discern 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 311 
 
 Or chronicle; but, O my GOD! august; 
 Since, there alone the secrecy of strength 
 And power of unpartaken being dwell. 
 For what is action, but the spirit's garb, 
 The form and pressure of a life unseen ? 
 And that more awful than the outer sense 
 Can shape, or recognize by reaching words. 
 WITHIN is life! the TRINITY come there 
 To bless or blast, as we fcheir OWN become 
 By likeness ; or satanical by sin ; 
 But life exterior, with its painted shows, 
 And all its multiplex array of scenes 
 By conduct acted or experience tried, 
 Is like the ripple seen on ocean's face; 
 Hiding the unregarded deeps below, 
 And tempting gazers to discern no more. 
 
 Then lift your heads, ye everlasting doors ! 
 And be ye open, O eternal gates! 
 That, in the chariot of descending grace 
 Borne by His SPIRIT down to hearts that pray, 
 The KING OF GLORY with His train of truths 
 Begirt, may come, and find due welcome there. 
 England! be grateful; for a scene that melts 
 The soul to thoughts, whose dialect is tears, 
 Around us opens with expansive range! 
 Uncounted steeples now to heaven uplift 
 Their chimes, and swell the wafting air with tones 
 That rise and fall, like undulating waves 
 
312 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 In volumed cadence heaved upon the shore; 
 But, touching are they! for the tombs of mind 
 Open amid them, as they peal or pause; 
 While buried hopes, and forms, and feelings dead 
 Quicken beneath their resurrection -tones 
 Mysterious. But, far beyond the gaze 
 Of earth to witness, will those gathered souls 
 Who meet to worship with commingled awe 
 The GOD INCARNATE, to the angels bright 
 This morn discover; when the piercing truth 
 Enters their spirit with irradiant power, 
 And bares the bosom of the soul, to light ! 
 For hearts to them, are like transparent hives, 
 Whose hidden workings are conspicuous made 
 And watch'd, for ever. Yes, the Sabbath gives 
 Wisdom to angels; while they bend to see 
 How nature struggles, as the SPIRIT acts, 
 Revives our graces, or rebukes our sins; 
 Or, drags the guilty to that secret bar, 
 That strange tribunal which ourselves erect, 
 And cannot vanquish. 'Tis indeed a day 
 When most of God, and most of man evolves. 
 What faint expressions of the forming Christ 
 Feature our hearts with elemental love, 
 This do they watch, and with concernment trace: 
 They love to think where infidels would sneer, 
 And learn divinity by reading man. 
 
 But, though some emanated charms there be, 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 313 
 
 Sent from the Sabbath, which no eye discerns 
 Profoundly, as consummate angels can, 
 Haunting our temples with their wings unheard 
 And eyes unwitness'd; yet, enough remains 
 To prove a magic clothes this holy morn 
 Beyond all others, beautiful and deep. 
 And now, methinks that potency begins ! 
 Open the heavens, and drop their sacred dews, 
 Distilling balm, and blessedness and love. 
 Whether to yon cathedral, with its form 
 August, and massive elegance of towers 
 Serenely rising in the radiant air, 
 Your fancy wander; and awhile enjoy 
 The wave-like rollings of the organ-peals 
 Bursting, and booming down the arched aisles 
 And hollow naves, while choir, and chanted rites, 
 And vested priesthood in their pure array, 
 Ensoul with awful loveliness the scene. 
 Or rather, if to some Arcadian haunt 
 Where rustic manners in ancestral stamp 
 Are yet embalm'd you turn your roving eye ; 
 To view the patriarchs of some village throng 
 Hie to their minster, with its gothic porch 
 And ivied windows, 'mid encircling yews 
 Embosom'd dimly; yet in each alike, 
 How much of all the REFORMATION brought 
 Of peace and purity, may feeling trace ! 
 
 But where yon palaces of commerce lift 
 
 2 E 
 
314 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Their dusky, dim, and many window'd piles, 
 
 'Mid roar of capitals, or cities vast, 
 
 How does the day on which MESSIAH rose, 
 
 Check the loud wheels, and hush the grating jars 
 
 And vexing hum of avarice, and gain ; 
 
 That care-worn artizans, with pallid cheeks, 
 
 And all the wasted family of toil, 
 
 Each with his little one, awhile may feel 
 
 That men are more than rational machines 
 
 For shaping matter, or absorbing food! 
 
 And on their foreheads see a title-page, 
 
 An imprimatur of immortal life. 
 
 So on this day, (by Heaven's ordaining law 
 
 Rank'd in the rubric of perpetual grace,) 
 
 They all may learn their brotherhood, in God. 
 
 There, as they group beneath the Bible's wing; 
 
 And, through the centralizing love of Christ 
 
 The level glory of our nature reach 
 
 Together, who can tell what sweet content, 
 
 What calm submission to their clouded lot, 
 
 With all the heart-burns which their toil-worn lives 
 
 Experience ever, from that moment flows! 
 
 Here all are equal; in the bond of flesh, 
 
 The ties of nature, and in guilt with God : 
 
 Here, crowns and coronets, and truncheons drop 
 
 To nothing; king and subject share alike; 
 
 And in thy royalties, redeeming Love ! 
 
 A prince may falter, where a peasant lifts 
 
 His plea; while in the poor man's eye may shine 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 315 
 
 J^ tear of rapture, kingdoms could not raise, 
 Nor, all that earth's diameter contains 
 Purchase the peace his hallow'd conscience hath! 
 
 Glory! to think that on this morn, mankind 
 Bow at the footstool of their COMMON SIRE 
 In co-equality of dust, and sin, 
 To plead for mercy at Salvation's fount. 
 Ye mighty hunters in the fields of truth ! 
 Titans of thought ! ye giants of renown ! 
 Colossal wonders in the world of mind, 
 Who, with the shadow of your souls immense 
 Cover creation! though your genius charm 
 Th J eternal PUBLIC of posterity, 
 Your names are nothing in the balance now! 
 Bend the stiff mind, and bow the stubborn heart; 
 And in the pleadings of your helpless dust 
 Go, take your station with yon cottage-girl; 
 Or chant a verse with yonder hymning child: 
 And, happy are ye ! if like them, ye feel 
 That wisdom is, our ignorance to know. 
 There, cast your anchors in the cloven ROCK 
 Of ages ; for behind the VEIL it towers 
 Deep as eternity, and high as God! 
 
 Abhorr'd be therefore that most brutal aim, 
 That rank hyperbole of godless crime 
 Which massacres religion at a blow, 
 That ere by riot, lust, or lawless gain, 
 
316 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Or by some logic, false as fiends inspire, 
 
 Our Sabbaths from their sanctity should fail 
 
 Or falter. On two worlds at once they touch ; 
 
 The LIGHTS of this, the LANDMARKS of the next; 
 
 And reft of these, all anarchies commence 
 
 To madden ; nor can praise itself o'erprize 
 
 The order'd notions of a day like this ; 
 
 When thou, maternal CHURCH ! whose head is hoar'd 
 
 With ages, but whose heart, like Jesu's, beats 
 
 With love for spirits, art a blessing proved 
 
 By Forms, by Functions, and by ritual chants, 
 
 And Sacraments of soul-exalting grace. 
 
 Thine is a work, beyond seraphic lyres 
 
 To celebrate; for now by thee allured, 
 
 The infant, by his lisping tongue may speak 
 
 More truths than mighty Socrates could tell, 
 
 Or Plato in his most unearthly dream 
 
 Embody. Yes, the Church is REASON'S friend! 
 
 For, what is Reason but th' informing WORD 
 
 By grace imparted? and, as HE begins 
 
 Our nature's law to regulate and rule, 
 
 So, all the circles of our secret life 
 
 Concentrical to perfect reason, act. 
 
 And though alike the humble and the high 
 
 In sermons, sacraments, and symbols meet 
 
 Depths of divinity, they cannot wade, 
 
 And meanings never master'd; yet, by such 
 
 The mental energies are boldly trained 
 
 To grapple Truths, and rarely let them go 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 317 
 
 Without a blessing. But, the creed that aims 
 Both man and faith in horizontal lines 
 To level, proves a flattering lie; that draws 
 That force from reason, which it feigns to give; 
 Like fawning ivy round some oak entwined, 
 Eating the heart its verdure seems to brace. 
 
 Again then be our lauding chants uplift 
 To HIM most holy, to the Sabbath's God! 
 Who, when the Planets sang their lays of light, 
 While young Earth from her liquid cradle rose 
 Rejoicing, from His throne of love decreed 
 A Sabbath endless, modell'd from his OWN, 
 A Rest whose archetype HIMSELF enjoy'd. 
 Long may our Church, with her organic Powers 
 And rites ministrant, this pure day revere : 
 For sabbaths make the morals of our land ; 
 And by their litanies of sacred love, 
 By pulpit, priest, and all that past'ral sway 
 Which makes the meanest village in our land 
 To catch a hue of elegance refined, 
 They form thermometers, whereby to mete 
 (Rising or falling as their sanction acts) 
 Our true advancement, in the noblest weal: 
 Since public virtue, monarchy, and law, 
 And church with state together are espoused 
 By league of principle, and power of love ; 
 So, if our sabbaths be from sway dethroned, 
 The music of the commonwealth is gone ! 
 2 E 2 
 
318 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Soon into atoms will dissolve and drop 
 
 That Fabric eloquent, whose walls are mind, 
 
 And founded deep in immemorial laws 
 
 And liberties: the CONSTITUTION falls! 
 
 Then guard them well, ye Senators and Priests, 
 
 For they are priceless ! and to us preserve 
 
 All that in heart and home, in temple or in state 
 
 Is pure of worship, or of lore profound. 
 
 And he who robs them of their rightful sway 
 
 By pen, or speech, example, creed or life, 
 
 On heaven itself a sacrilege presumes, 
 
 Man's awful being to the centre shocks, 
 
 And plucks the apple from a Nation's eye ! 
 
 But turn from this, one gentle view to take 
 Again from nature. Now the day is done; 
 And, like the radiance of some lovely dream 
 Poetic slumber fashions, softly melts 
 And sweetly mellows into parting hues 
 The hour of sunset. From the ruby west 
 A flashing glory o'er the firmament 
 Deepens along; and over earth reflects 
 Beauty, that touches flower, and field, and fruit 
 And yellow corn-fields sloping o'er the vale, 
 With charms more exquisite than garish noon 
 Inspires. But, if on yonder height you stand, 
 Beneath you, what a British Arcady, 
 In lustre qualified with coming shade 
 Is then unveil'd, by sunny calm serened ! 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 319 
 
 There as you stand, around your temples throng 
 
 The fresh- wing'd airs, from waving branches sent; 
 
 The breeze makes music; while the cadence low 
 
 Of distant sheep-bell dyingly comes on, 
 
 Or, melts delightfully on feeling's ear. 
 
 Here nature thrones enchantment ; far-off hills 
 
 Crown'd with a coronet of glitt'ring trees, 
 
 Paler and paler to the west retire; 
 
 And woods, and coppice, lanes, and hedges green, 
 
 With sun-bright cots, and farms of mossy roof; 
 
 While here and there, some rustic temple lifts 
 
 That gothic beauty, (whose mysterious power 
 
 Acts on the eye, like poetry in stone 
 
 Embodied,) these in blent expression woo 
 
 The gazer; mix'd with many a fairy gleam 
 
 From rivers flashing, as the sun-ray tips 
 
 The current, cheering it with gay surprise. 
 
 But now, a mellow shade of mantling hue 
 
 Advances; villages and towns retire 
 
 Like pictured visions, save where yonder tower ; 
 
 In its tall symmetry, with golden tinge 
 
 Retains the sunbeam; and as home you wend, 
 
 Hark ! on the ear of balmy evening comes 
 
 The faint far chime of some cathedral-bell, 
 
 With pensive summons; which to fancy, sounds , 
 
 A curfew for creation's sabbath-rest. 
 
 And now, that rest is deepening; daylight ebbs; 
 But yet, or ever sinks yon priest of light, 
 
320' A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Around him, like a burning shrine the heavens 
 
 Gather and glow, and with enfolding splendour wrap 
 
 His decadence; while colours richly deep 
 
 And dazzling, woven from th' Almighty's loom 
 
 Of nature, all the Occident inlay. 
 
 Brighter .and brighter his dilated orb 
 
 Is now becoming; till at length he sinks 
 
 In soft decline, magnificently calm, 
 
 Beneath yon flush'd horizon : leaving all above 
 
 Hued with his radiance; like to hearts that catch 
 
 From GOD'S own heroes, when their dying beds 
 
 In farewell glory give the Christian out, 
 
 Flashes of meaning, which the face o'erspread 
 
 With lustre, and the gazer's cheek impress 
 
 With light, whose source is immortality! 
 
 Vistas of thought, and avenues of mind 
 Where Truth may roam in philosophic shade, 
 Or Fancy, (by her shaping dreams begirt,) 
 Image beyond what pict'ring words describe, 
 Open before us; now this pensive lull, 
 And balmy prelude to the twilight's reign, 
 Come o'er the heart: till, with sabbatic love 
 Nature and mind responsively confer. 
 Oh, how the sacredness of silence steals 
 O'er all things! just as if a Spirit's glide, 
 Inaudible but/efa, through earth and air 
 Were passing: mute and motionless, the trees 
 Stand in the gloom like sentinels entranced; 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 32 
 
 Not e'en an insect, through the stirless air 
 
 At times is waking: boughs and birds repose; 
 
 While the dark shadows of yon distant hills 
 
 Loom on the eye, portentous and profound, 
 
 As if with speaking vastness : but the flowers 
 
 Breathe double fragrance, now the heated air 
 
 Is cooling; and a thousand secret plants, 
 
 That in the sun- warm noon their scents retain 
 
 Inviolate, their rich aroma yield; 
 
 Like hearts whose finer sympathies are shut 
 
 When fortune brightens, but when sorrow's night 
 
 Blackens around you, let their sweetness out : 
 
 Or, as those promises the SPIRIT'S love 
 
 To faith applies, which seldom while the sun 
 
 Of joy shines golden, give their treasures forth; 
 
 But in our glooms, how gloriously they breathe 
 
 Their buried meanings into living force 
 
 And comfort! But, more hush'd and holy still 
 
 Grows the dim landscape, round the muser's tread 
 
 Who walks it, till he dreams his very step 
 
 Profane intrusion on the soundless air. 
 
 And now methinks, Miltonic eyes would view 
 
 Th* angelic watchers of our mystic world 
 
 Patrolling earth, with immaterial garb 
 
 And tread unseen; or, by their LORD employed 
 
 The wheels of nature to redress; or guide 
 
 The comings-on of Night, who now begins 
 
 To spread her mantle o'er the sleeping world. 
 
 Here is the moment when our conscience moves, 
 
0^-s A POET S RETROSPECT, 
 
 If racked or guilty ; when religion wakes 
 
 From depths unopened in the fev'rish day, 
 
 While awed imagination lives, and feels 
 
 Th' unborn poetry of speechless mind 
 
 Within her quickened: loud the heart-throbs beat; 
 
 But, in this syncope of nature's voice, 
 
 What mute theology a moment wields 
 
 O'er the strained fancy! now indeed, we prove 
 
 That worded speech to manhood appertains, 
 
 But SILENCE the Almighty's language is; 
 
 And Faith can hear it, thrillingly entoned 
 
 With inspirations from eternity! 
 
 But, that hath pass'd; and from the shrouding awe 
 That girds thee, with a gentle force awake. 
 E'en such a night, as now begins her spell, 
 The captive Luther from his watch-tower loved 
 To witness, when by prayer becalmed, 
 He rolled his eye-glance round the vaulted heavens 
 Studded with stars, like scripture gemm'd with truths ; 
 A nd gave his spirit to the charm of night 
 With all a poet's rapture! Such prepares 
 O'er the dead twilight to assert its reign 
 Of tranced loveliness, and stellar noon, 
 Lo ! one by one, with timid gleam, and slow, 
 Star after star comes trembling into life 
 And lustre ; radiant, mild, and mournful oft, 
 Like the half tears in childhood's pensive eye, 
 Do some appear; while others, rich and round 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 323 
 
 Like burning jewels, dug from mines of light, 
 
 Flash on the forehead of the mellowed sky 
 
 Most brilliantly; or clustered into groups, 
 
 The rest commingle their associate beams 
 
 Dazzling the concave. Still, the earth obscured 
 
 Lies dimly veil'd, with umbrage unrelieved, 
 
 Waiting the lamp that lights her beauties up. 
 
 And, yonder comes it! lo, her placid brow 
 
 O'er the dusk air the queenly moon uplifts. 
 
 And, e'en as music, solemn, deep and slow, 
 
 Through the dark chambers of dejected mind 
 
 Where all is shapeless, oft to order cites 
 
 Thought after thought, successive and serene, 
 
 So her wan lustre, as it mildly steals 
 
 O'er the mute landscape, tree and bough and bank 
 
 Each out of dimness and disorder draws 
 
 To shape and aspect ; till the dew-drops gleam 
 
 Like nature's diamonds on her night-garb thrown, 
 
 In countless sparkles : but the stars grow pale, 
 
 Like mortal graces near th' excessive blaze 
 
 Of Thine, EMMANUEL ! save th' undazzled brows 
 
 Of those large planets, eloquently bright 
 
 With sheen unconquer'd. What a change at once 
 
 The moon o'er all things by her beam hath cast! 
 
 Like faith, arising in some nighted heart, 
 
 And touching nature with redemption's light 
 
 Victorious. Wheresoe'er his roving eye 
 
 Darts a pleased glance, hill, and brook and hedge, 
 
 Rivers and streams, and meadowy range far off, 
 
324 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Cities and towers, and tall cathedral spires 
 
 And village churchyards, with their grassy tombs 
 
 Attract the gazer; till his glance is fed 
 
 With loveliness, beyond the moving lip 
 
 To mention. But above, how beautiful! 
 
 There, solemnly the climbing moon ascends; 
 
 And each thin cloud within her silver reach 
 
 She clothes with splendour; like a mortal pang 
 
 By hope celestial into radiant peace 
 
 Transmuted. But in this access divine 
 
 Of nature's sabbath, solitude and night, 
 
 How like the fortunes of the Saviour's Bride 
 
 The moon's high progress through the heaven 
 
 appears ! 
 
 Varied and full, now crescent and complete, 
 Shaded, or dim, and then with radiance clad: 
 So hath the Church along time's clouded scene 
 Flourished or faded, shined, or suffered gloom; 
 But yet doth travel through her fated round 
 Upward to glory! or, may deeper eyes discern 
 In yon pale symbol of orac'lar sky, 
 The moon-like radiance of imperfect man 
 By grace made holy, but how changeful too ? 
 E'en to the last, by shades of sin o'erhung 
 Or hidden : while the imperial Lord of day, 
 By his prerogative of light, portrays 
 That sun-clear righteousness of state complete, 
 Which all the justified of God arrays 
 With faultless glory, fair as JESUS wore. 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 325 
 
 Oh! that NAME, beyond all nature loud, 
 Peals like the trumpet of eternity 
 Through all the chambers of responsive faith, 
 Making them echo with the voice of Christ ! 
 Nature was forfeit, when the first man fell 
 To sin; and whatsoe'er in nature lives, 
 In reason, morals; or in mind enacts 
 Dominion, from His vast atonement flows. 
 And who but they who thus the earth baptize 
 In Jesus, half its fascinating creed 
 Interpret? Not, but myst'ry there abides, 
 And most unfathom'd : for by sense we find 
 Creation is the way of God to mem, 
 In life or being outwardly expressed; 
 But in redemption, God with God proceeds 
 By truth and glory, inwardly resolved: 
 And, if the first our reason overtask, 
 On what but scripture can the second stand? 
 But this we know, (howe'er the myst'ry shock 
 The carnal, or the mind's conceit alarm,) 
 Creation once her own creator saw 
 In flesh embodied, when for sin he died! 
 And now, from HIM this hour of beauty takes 
 All that in sky, or cloud, or star-encircled moon 
 Is lovely. Here indeed, material sights 
 Touch'd by the cross, with sacred meaning glow, 
 Turning creation to a creed of forms 
 Significantly glorious ! What a truth ! 
 From HIM this boundless orb of being came 
 2 F 
 
326 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 From nothing cited; by His ceaseless hand 
 The wheels of nature, and the wings of time 
 Circle their way, or waft their soundless flight; 
 While all the properties the Creatures have, 
 Are but the actings of a secret CHRIST 
 Organically present. Here is faith, 
 When all the motions which in nature rule, 
 Her laws and lights, her harmonies and hues, 
 From the faint insect to the flaming sun 
 Apparent, preach the Saviour's kingly hand, 
 And to the senses do expound His heart 
 For ever! What the sinful Adam lost, 
 The SINLESS by eternal heirship gain'd; 
 The curse unsting'd, then took th' attainder off, 
 And back redeemed th' inheritance of MAN! 
 
 Oh! tell me not, poetic harps can sing 
 That science loves, and sentiment perceives, 
 And calm philosophy with musing eye 
 Beneath the stars magnetic, all which heaven 
 And earth of God and goodness testify; 
 'Tis only when by DAVID'S KEY unlock'd, 
 The Secrets and the Splendours of the world 
 Act their full charm; and by electric touch 
 Wake their deep springs of answ'ring love within. 
 The merest elegance of pagan mind 
 Can dimly, upward to creative POWER 
 And goodness, haply grope its errant way : 
 But when the Christian can his CHRIST discern 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 327 
 
 As HEAD and HEART of all creation shows, 
 
 Religion and his life make parallels ; 
 
 For faith and feeling in communion move 
 
 Divorceless ever! Then at once, all laws 
 
 And movements, like cathedral rites appear, 
 
 By nature's liturgy of LOVE perform'd 
 
 In the vast temple of the universe, 
 
 Shrining EMMANUEL : then the whole applies 
 
 To him, the watching, weeping, dying LORD, 
 
 The source of nature and salvation too. 
 
 Then, oh, thou Earth, what oracles there roll 
 
 With pure expression from thy myriad shrines, 
 
 With more than music, to our spirit's ear! 
 
 And ye, calm Heavens! with liquid moonlight 
 
 bathed, 
 
 With what a rhetoric your silence pleads^ 
 For HIM who soared beyond ye ! and his seat 
 Almighty, far above your veiling pomps 
 Thron'd in high glory! Then alone ye form 
 Creation's Bible; where the blessed stars 
 Beam their bright gospel on devotion's gaze, 
 By faith illumined, in their light to read 
 The priceless merit of the BLOOD that keeps 
 The Heavens in motion, and our Earth alive ! 
 
 So may we ever, at nocturnal hour, 
 Morning, or noon, whatever time we walk 
 The halls of nature with a holy tread, 
 
328 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 To HIM all beautiful, all vast, all bright 
 May we refer; WHO when creation fell, 
 And sin on earth began its hell to bring, 
 Personified eternity in time, 
 And clothed th' INFINITE with human Flesh 
 For our remission! 
 
 But the midnight hour is come; 
 The Moon, with her pale hierarchy girt 
 Of stars, is gliding to the ocean's brim : 
 And listen ! for the chime of far-off bells 
 O'er a dead Sabbath tolls their dying tone. 
 And now, the day is buried; to thy tomb 
 Eternity, with all its hopes and fears 
 Gather'd, and gone ! But oh, how thrill'd 
 The chords mysterious of our secret frame ! 
 As if the stirrings of a life unborn, 
 Latent but lovely, this rapt hour inspired, 
 The dead seem gazing on our hearts again! 
 Illapses deep, irradiations pure 
 Glide through our spirit, from a source unknown ; 
 Until, by awful loveliness subdued, 
 Above the pilgrim lifts his eye of prayer 
 Expressive : youth, and home, and long- fled days 
 With soft revival, touch him into tears 
 Unshed ; and while the arch of night yet rings 
 With the soft echoes of the sunken chimes 
 Around him, many a thoughtful sigh is heaved 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 329 
 
 O'er visions gone; while things that once becharm'd 
 The dazzled fancy, pale and cold appear. 
 Weeds of the past on mem'ry's lonely shore ! 
 
 And now amid thy hush, most holy night ! 
 Here let us stand, beneath yon hanging cliff, 
 Closing our song beside the placid sea 
 That now lies breezeless. Who that thus beholds 
 Her bosom, by th' effulging moonlight deck'd, 
 And heaving only to attraction's orb, 
 (As heaves the heart beneath the eye it loves,) 
 Could ever think, thou democratic sea ! 
 Thy billows like the roar of human wrongs 
 Clamour on high, and cleave the heavens with sound 
 So often! Such thy halcyon slumber now, 
 The stars are mirror'd on thy glassy wave 
 With beam unbroken ; while the feet that press 
 The pebbled margin of the moonlit wave, 
 Rudely and loudly on the hush intrude 
 Their faintest motion. 
 
 Here then, be farewell 
 To this long strain of meditative truth, 
 E'en by thy bulwark, O Britannic Isle ! 
 That, with the meekness of maternal love 
 Ramparts the home her waves have helped to guard. 
 Here in the trance of this untroubled night 
 Sabbatic, lift we now our hand and heart 
 And eyes, to that SUPERNAL POWER OF TRUTH 
 2 F 2 
 
330 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 Who governs all things, but who guardeth thee 
 My country ! with a most peculiar love : 
 That once as out of Zion peal'd the trump 
 Of ancient gospel, hence the battle- voice 
 Of truth reformed should ever bravely roll ; 
 And waken echoes, such as Luther's heart 
 Could welcome, deep as lofty Cranmer loved, 
 Or Ridley o'er his pangs of fire prolong'd ! 
 
 Mysterious SPIRIT of the ceaseless mind ! 
 HEART of the church, as Christ the only HEAD; 
 SOUL of our souls, in supernat'ral light ; 
 Unbounded, deathless and transforming GRACE 
 And LOVE, and WISDOM! Thee I now invoke; 
 And to THYSELF presume to consecrate 
 Pages, that whatsoe'er of hallo w'd power 
 They have, from THEE alone their truth receive 
 And virtue. Oh! thou SEMPITERNAL LIFE, 
 Breathe o'er this effort, and with force array 
 Whate'er is feeble; and with heavenly touch 
 And tone their meaning so affect and fill, 
 That onward to the inner mind of man 
 Or central being, where high Conscience holds 
 Her seat august, and faith's dominion acts, 
 What truths they carry may be safely borne 
 Beyond the heartless, and above the vain 
 To warp or weaken. Here beneath the arch 
 Of midnight, solemn, deep, intensely calm, 
 THY PRESENCE would I realize; and lift 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 331 
 
 Mine awe-struck nature to the heights unseen 
 Of ESSENCE uncreate, where THOU art third 
 In Godhead, where the FOUNTAIN SIRE is first, 
 Second, the FILIAL WORD, and All supreme 
 In One co-equal, co-eternal THREE 
 The GOD tripersonal and true, complete. 
 
 Descend pure SPIRIT ! light and life and love 
 Without Thee, are not : poetry is Thine, 
 Reason, and science, and majestic arts, 
 The heaven-born virtues, intellectual powers 
 With all pre-eminence of grace or gifts, 
 Are but as glances from Thy glory cast, 
 And caught by mind. But who THY sway can tell ? 
 For at the first, the heavens and all their host, 
 Moon star and planets, from THY hand derived 
 Their radiance, from Thy wisdom learn'd their paths. 
 And Earth is thine : her elemental laws, 
 Her motions, harmonies and living hues 
 And beauty, are but emanated powers 
 From Thee, great BEAUTY'S archetypal SEAL ! 
 While MAN himself, (that miracle of forms) 
 Into his mould was copied from THY cast 
 Ethereal ; and the whole of truths inspired, 
 Prophetic utt'rance, or mirac'lous deed, 
 Which was, or is, or shall be, are but rays 
 Sent from Thine essence to created mind. 
 
 Without THEE, more than night Egyptian reigns! 
 2 F 3 
 
332 A POET'S RETROSPECT, 
 
 DUTY sublime would stern distraction be, 
 Commanding what our impotence alarms, 
 To love that HOLY which our hearts abhor 
 By nature ! But Thy promised aid attends, 
 Arches our being, like the roof of heaven 
 Where'er we wander; and to will perverse 
 Such power imparteth, that the precept takes 
 Thy presence with it in each task assigned. 
 
 THOU teachest GOD ; and man himself abides 
 In fact unfathom'd, till Thy light reveal 
 The two eternities of coming truth 
 Within Him folded, like a double germ 
 Soon to expand in heaven or hell complete! 
 And hence our NATURE grows an awful thing ; 
 We thrill eternity in touching MAN ! 
 For, from the eyeballs of his living head 
 Outlooks the EVERLASTING! though eclipsed; 
 While every heart-pulse in the life of faith 
 Throbs with Thy Spirit, INSPIRATION'S Lord. 
 
 Thou only READER of the complex mind ! 
 Unerring JUDGE, to whose transpiercing gaze 
 All the seal'd fountains of shut motive lie 
 Unseal'd and open, bless, oh! bless 
 Both church and state, both monarchy and crown ; 
 Teaching the highest, that of THEE bereft 
 Reason itself irrational becomes, 
 Virtues are vices, with a better name 
 
AND PATRIOT'S CONCLUSION. 333 
 
 And brighter seeming: but by THEE becalm'd, 
 
 The rudest chaos of corrupted hearts 
 
 At once is softened; till in love and awe 
 
 Embodied harmony the man appears; 
 
 Lives by THY life, and with Thy motion moves, 
 
 A radiant LIKENESS of the LORD he loves. 
 
 And now O SPIRIT ! at the noon of night, 
 Under the arch of this poetic sky 
 While all around me breathes the hash of heaven, 
 THEE I invoke, this erring strain to crown: 
 Without Thee, 'tis but vanity and voice 
 And mere vexation, into language thrown; 
 But with Thee, weakness is itself made strong, 
 While nature's darkness turns to light divine. 
 And if with me one aspiration dwell 
 For truths, beyond philosophy to preach 
 Or master; if one thought this perill'd mind 
 Inspire, where THOU, O God of grace, art seen, 
 Prevenient SPIRIT ! 'tis from Thee derived. 
 And oh, if life, with all its loneliness, 
 The glow of youth hath still in heart retain'd; 
 If all the waste, the fever, and the fret 
 Of buried pangs beyond the world to know 
 From boyhood in its bleakness, e'en till now, 
 Have not untuned me; but a tone have left 
 In concord with the beautiful and bright; 
 If nature thrill me, with as keen a joy 
 As in the poetry of pensive youth 
 2 p 4 
 
334 A POET'S RETROSPECT, ETC. 
 
 It ever did ; if such, for bliss remain : 
 
 Blent with far deeper things, by sniffing taught, 
 
 And faith transmuted, for the life within, 
 
 As onward through a bleak and heartless world 
 
 My pathway windeth to the waiting tomb, 
 
 SPIRIT OF GLORY ! take my gratitude, 
 
 And sanctify the closing strain I sing: 
 
 Bear with my soul; Thy blessing o'er it breathe, 
 
 And all who love the MASTER whom I serve. 
 
 Divine EMMANUEL! peace may all Thy CHURCH 
 
 Till faith shall in sublime fruition end, 
 All symbols cease, all sacraments retire, 
 And earthly Sabbaths into heavenly melt 
 For men, and angels; where the host redeem'd 
 Shall in the TEMPLE of pure GODHEAD keep 
 The sabbath endless of almighty love. 
 
NOTES. 
 

NOTES. 
 
 NOTE 1, PAGE 276. 
 LUTHER'S DEATH. 
 
 THE thought of death had never been long absent from the 
 mind of Luther. In the year 1527, he took leave of all his 
 friends ; and ten years later, he, with his friends, gave up every 
 hope of his restoration. And, not only did the thoughts and 
 the expectations of death often present themselves before him, 
 but he did not even fly from its terrors for example, during 
 the plague in Wittemberg, he remained, and personally 
 attended on the sick. Indeed, he seemed at times to desire 
 the death of a martyr ; and particularly in his latter years, he 
 often wished to be released from his cares. 
 
 In 1535, when writing upon the subject of the union with 
 the Swiss brethren, he says, "If this reconciliation be con- 
 firmed, then with tears of joy I will sing, Now lettest thou thy 
 servant depart, for I have seen the church at peace. May the 
 Lord conduct and conclude this great work, that my joy may 
 be complete, and that after so many troubles and trials I may 
 happily depart!" And again he writes: "I witness this 
 re-union, after so long an estrangement, with heartfelt 
 delight, before my death, which I hope and believe is not 
 far distant." 
 
 In 1544, he says in a preface, "Beware, for the future, ot 
 bestowing on me such commendation, which, had I not known 
 your sincerity, I had almost termed deceitful. I know that I 
 am nothing. Farewell in the Lord ; pray for me, that I may 
 happily cast off the body of this death, the sins of the flesh, 
 and enter into the joy of the Lord." 
 
 
 
338 LUTHER. 
 
 In answer to inquiries from the Elector, respecting his 
 health, he answered, "I am well and better than I deserve to 
 be ; and that my head is sometimes weak is no wonder. Old 
 age is with me, and he is always infirm and decrepit, weak and 
 sickly. The pitcher, after long use, must at last be broken at 
 the fountain. I have lived long enough, and only wait till 
 God shall grant me that blessed hour, when my worthless 
 body shall be gathered to my people. I have, I am con- 
 vinced, lived in the best times ; all things now appear to be 
 taking a retrograde movement." 
 
 On St. Martin's day, 1545, he invited all his intimate friends 
 to dine with him, and at the close of the entertainment, said 
 to them: "As long as I live, there will, please God, be no 
 cause for fear, and Germany will remain at peace ; when I am 
 dead, then pray, for you will have great need for all your sup- 
 plications ; our children will have to grasp the spear, and then 
 their country will use them despitefully ; therefore I say to 
 you, after my death, pray without ceasing." 
 
 In a writing, also bearing the date of 1546, he observes: 
 "If I could live a hundred years, and had not only through 
 the grace of God been able to quiet former and present fac- 
 tions and disorders, but also all that should arise in that space 
 of time, yet I know that our posterity would still enjoy no 
 peace; because Satan still lives and reigns in the heart of 
 man ; I therefore pray only for a peaceful departure, and no 
 longer desire a continuance in this dreary vale. And ye our 
 children, pray in spirit and search the Scriptures. Preserve 
 the candlestick of the Lord, and watch for your enemy, ready 
 girded for the fight ; for he may come in an hour wiien ye 
 think not, and seek an entrance into your habitation, to 
 extinguish your light." 
 
 At this period, he complained of multiplicity of business, 
 and wrote to an acquantance: "I, a decrepit, weaiy, idle, 
 indifferent, and now half blind old man, (Luther had for some 
 time been afflicted by a disease in one eye,) write to you ; I 
 had hoped, that, oppressed by the infirmities of age, I should 
 have been left to repose, which were but reasonable ; instead 
 of which, I am overburdened with writing, speaking, business, 
 and excitement, as if I had never written, preached, or been 
 excited before." 
 
 The desire of the papists for Luther's removal, caused, more 
 than once, the report that he was dead; and absurd letters 
 were circulated, with the addition that the devil had carried 
 
LUTHER. 339 
 
 off his body. Luther was much amused with the invention of 
 this tale, and said he should by no means dislike that their 
 wishes should be fulfilled. 
 
 On the 23d of January, 1546, Luther left Wittemberg for 
 Eislebeii, from which place he never returned. The occasion 
 of his journey was a disagreement of the Dukes of Mansfeldt 
 with each other, and with some of their subjects, respecting 
 some mines and turf-lands. The dispute had lasted a con- 
 siderable time ; and Luther being a relation of the proprietors, 
 and acquainted with the dukes, had already endeavoured, but 
 in vain, to procure an amicable arrangement. 
 
 They now encouraged the old man to undertake the jour- 
 ney, that he might personally adjust the disagreement: he had 
 given his promise the preceding year, with these words: 
 " Although I have much business on my hands, yet I feel that 
 it is necessary to give a few days to this affair, that I may 
 peacefully lie down in my grave, after having seen my beloved 
 princes reconciled, and again amicably disposed towards us." 
 
 At Halle, where he was detained three days on account of 
 the high water, his life was endangered in crossing the river, 
 in a small boat. He was accompanied by his three sons, and 
 Jonas, a clergyman at Halle. He turned to the latter, say- 
 ing: Dear Dr. Jonas, would not that be a great triumph of 
 Satan, were you and I, with my children, to perish in the 
 flood? " He appeared very weak, so that they had many fears 
 he would not arrive at the end of his journey ; but he recovered 
 so far, as to enter into the affair for which he came, but with- 
 out bringing it to any happy issue. The Dukes of Mansfeldt 
 had met him, at the boundary of their territory, with an hun- 
 dred and thirteen persons on horseback, and showed him the 
 greatest respect. He preached four times, during the twenty- 
 one days he remained in Eislebcn ; he ordained two pastors ; 
 and twice administered the sacrament. His conversation at 
 table was always cheerful, and often jocular. He prayed 
 every evening, after supper, for half an hour, in the most ener- 
 getic and impressive manner, to the edification and astonish- 
 ment of his friends: he then again turned to the company, 
 appearing as if he had laid aside all his cares, and after con- 
 versing another half hour, he went to bed. How entirely he 
 was in possession of his mind, will be seen in a letter to his 
 wife, which we think interesting enough to insert. 
 
 It is dated Halle, January 25th: " Grace and peace in the 
 Lord, dearest Kate. We arrived here at eight o'clock this 
 
340 LUTHER. 
 
 morning, but have not been able to pursue our journey; for 
 we met with a powerful Anabaptist, who covered the land with 
 water and pieces of ice, so that we were threatened with the 
 ceremony of immersion. We could not return, on account of 
 the overflowing of the Mulda, and were obliged to remain in 
 Halle, between the two rivers, and wait till the Saale had spent 
 its displeasure ; we did not, however, quench our thirst with 
 these waters ; no, we comforted ourselves with good Torgan 
 beer, and Rhenish wine ; and as the driver, and the people, 
 with ourselves, were not without fear, we would not tempt 
 God by going through the water : for the devil is an evil water- 
 sprite, and better avoided than resisted ; and it was by no means 
 necessary, that we should make ourselves a laughing-stock for 
 the Pope and his minions. Had you been here, I believe you 
 would have advised the same; and we should at least have 
 followed your good advice for once in our lives," &c. 
 
 From Eisleben, on the 6th February, he wrote: "To the 
 deeply-learned Mrs. Catherine Luther, my gracious wife, at 
 Wittemberg, Dearest Kate, we are here sitting like martyrs, 
 and wish again to be with you ; but it cannot be arranged in 
 eight days, as I thought. Tell Magister Philippus that I wish 
 him to correct his sermon, for he has not rightly understood 
 why the Lord, in his parable, has compared riches to thorns. 
 Here is the school, where we can thoroughly learn what that 
 means, and it grieves me, that in every part of the Scriptures 
 they are threatened to be burned ; and for this reason I have 
 great patience, that if possible I may work some good in this 
 place. Your sons are still in Mansfeldt, and we are most hos- 
 pitably entertained, and could be very comfortable, were it 
 not for the vexatious contention." 
 
 NOTE 2, PAGE 277. 
 
 The favourite position of Luther in devotion is alluded to 
 in an interesting account of the Reformer's closing hours by 
 Justus Jonas : 
 
 " From time to time he would stop, and, looking out at the 
 window, in that attitude, (as his custom was,) address fervent 
 prayers to God ; so that I and Coelius, who were in the room 
 with him, could not but perceive it ; and then he would say, 
 ' I was born and baptized here at Eisleben ; what if I should 
 remain, or even die here?' 
 
 " Though, however, Luther passed the day in his study, he 
 
LUTHER. 341 
 
 did not choose to sup there, but in the large dining room : 
 observing, that ' to be solitary did not help the spirits.' During 
 supper, he quoted and made observations on many interesting 
 passages of Scripture. The conversation also happening to 
 turn on the question, whether the righteous in a future state 
 of blessedness would recognise those who had been their 
 Mends on earth, he gave his opinion dicidedly in the affirma- 
 tive. In the course of more ordinary conversation, he re- 
 marked, ' If I can but establish peace among the counts, the 
 rulers of my country, I will then go home, lay myself down in 
 my coffin, and give my body for food to the worms.' " 
 
 NOTE 3, PAGE 280. 
 
 " In person, he was of the middle size, strongly built. His 
 eye was brilliant and penetrating, so that not every one could 
 bear to meet its full gaze. It is said that a man, once sent to 
 assassinate him, was so overpowered by his glance, that he 
 hastily retired from his presence. His voice was neither 
 powerful, nor very clear." Armsdorff. 
 
 NOTE 4, PAGE 284. 
 
 " The tender and conscientious Melancthon, in particular, 
 was so deeply affected with the whole affair, that his distress 
 of mind brought on an illness which threatened to prove fatal 
 to him. With this illness, some interesting and important 
 occurrences are connected. Melancthon was seized with it 
 at Weimar, on his way to the appointed conference at Hague- 
 nau. When Luther, at the elector's express desire, visited 
 his suffering friend, he found him apparently at the point of 
 death : * His sight was obscured, his understanding nearly 
 gone, he had lost his hearing and his speech, he recognised 
 no one, and took no sustenance.' Luther, filled with con- 
 sternation and grief, exclaimed, 'Gracious God! how hath 
 Satan prevailed to derange and disfigure this noble instrument 
 of thine!' Then, turning to the window (as his custom was), 
 he stood and prayed for him in an extraordinary tone of con- 
 fidence and earnestness, pleading that God must indeed hear 
 them, to preserve their confidence in Him for the time to come. 
 After which, taking him by the hand, he thus affectionately 
 addressed him : ' My dear Philip, be of good cheer, you shall 
 not die ! Though God can never want sufficient occasion 
 
342 LUTHER. 
 
 against us, yet he willeth not the death of a sinner: he hath 
 pleasure in his life, not in his death. He hath pardoned the 
 greatest of sinners : never, assuredly, will he cast you from 
 his presence, nor suffer you to die overwhelmed with sin and 
 grief. Give not way to your sadness, nor hecome your own 
 destroyer ; but trust in God, who is able to kill and to make 
 alive !' While Luther thus addressed him, Melancthon began 
 a little to revive. Henceforward he gradually improved in 
 health, and was eventually restored. ' I should have died,' 
 he himself afterwards said, i but for Luther's visit to me.' 
 
 " In a will which he a short time before composed, under 
 symptoms of this attack of illness coming on, and with the 
 presentiment of death on his mind, he thus speaks of Luther : 
 ' I return my thanks to the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther first, 
 because from him I received the knowledge of the gospel, and 
 next because of his singular kindness shown to me on a 
 thousand occasions ; and I desire my family to regard him as 
 a father. Having found him to be endowed with a distin- 
 guished and heroic genius, with many great virtues, and with 
 eminent piety and learning, I have always honoured and loved 
 him, and thought his friendship worthy of the most assiduous 
 cultivation.' i Such friendships as I here record,' he beauti- 
 fully adds, 'I am persuaded are not to be extinguished by 
 death, but will soon be renewed in heaven, where they will 
 be enjoyed to much greater advantage, and yield unspeakably 
 higher delight.' " Scott's Luther. 
 
 NOTE 5, PAGE 285. 
 
 Luther died early in the morning of the 18th of February, 
 1546, at Eisleben," his native place. The Counts of Mans- 
 feldt wished to have him interred in their own territories; 
 but by command of the Elector, the body was brought to 
 Wittemberg, and buried with all public honours in the church 
 of All-Saints. His tomb has a brass plate with the following 
 inscription on it : 
 
 MARTINI LUTHERI S THEOLO- 
 GI^E D CORPUS H L 8 E Q.UI 
 
 AN CHRISTI M D XLVI XII. 
 
 CAL MARTII EYSLEBIT IN PA- 
 
 TRIA S M O_C ' V__ANN LX1II 
 
 M II. D X. 
 
LUTHER. 343 
 
 When Melancthon first received the intelligence of his 
 friend's death, he exclaimed, " My Father ! my Father ! the 
 chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof." (2 Kings xi. 12.) 
 For the following translation of the funeral oration, as deliv- 
 ered by Melancthon at the funeral of Luther, we are indebted 
 to Dr. Cox. Life of Melancthon, second edition, p. 439 452. 
 
 "Although amidst this general mourning my voice is so 
 obstructed by deep affliction and tears, yet something I would 
 attempt to say, not to eulogize the dead as the heathen do, 
 but to admonish the living in this vast assembly, and espe- 
 cially to impress just sentiments upon the junior part of the 
 auditory respecting the government of the church and its 
 dangers, that they may learn what to desire, and by what 
 examples to regulate their lives. Wicked and infidel men 
 represent everything in the present apparent confusion of 
 human aifairs as the result of mere chance ; but confiding in 
 the numerous and explicit declarations of God himself, we 
 distinguish the church from the promiscuous multitude of 
 mankind, and affirm that it is under Divine superintendence 
 and protection. To this we constantly look, obeying our 
 lawful governors, and cherishing a pious reverence for those 
 guides and instructors whom we choose. 
 
 " It will be necessary to advert to these considerations as 
 often as the name of the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther, 
 our most beloved father and teacher, is introduced, whom we 
 love and honour, detestable as he appears in the eyes of many 
 wicked men, and whom we know to have been raised up by 
 heaven as a minister of the true gospel, by evidences which, 
 notwithstanding the charges of our opponents, prove that his 
 doctrines were neither seditious, nor dispersed abroad with a 
 blind and impetuous zeal. 
 
 "In this place, and on these occasions, many things are 
 usually said in a panegyrical strain respecting the personal 
 endowments of the deceased. I propose, however, to omit 
 these, and advert chiefly to his ecclesiastical function. Intel- 
 ligent and pious persons will admit, if he were the means of 
 promoting useful and necessary truth in the church, we ought 
 to be grateful to the providence of God for raising up such a 
 light, while his labours, faith, perseverance, and other virtues, 
 2G 
 
344 LUTHER. 
 
 ought to be duly acknowledged, and his memory tenderly 
 cherished by all worthy men. 
 
 "The Apostle St. Paul represents Christ as 'having ascended 
 on high to give gifts unto men' that is, the preaching of the 
 gospel and the Holy Spirit ; for the purpose of communicating 
 which, 'he gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some 
 evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, selecting them 
 from amongst those who read, study, and delight in the 
 sacred writings. Nor are they only called into the Christian 
 service who occupy the more ordinary stations, but others are 
 frequently introduced, under the direction of learned men, 
 into this holy warfare : and it is both pleasing and profitable 
 to witness the care of God to his church throughout all ages, 
 in sending a continued succession of useful men, that as some 
 fall in the glorious field, others may instantly rush forward 
 to take their places. The first of our race who nobly occu- 
 pied the foremost ranks were Adam, Seth, Enoch, Methu- 
 selah, Noah, Shem and Lot. The latter, being yet alive, and 
 dwelling in the neighbourhood of Sodom, when the inhabi- 
 tants of the earth, forgetting the instructions of Noah and 
 Shem, became addicted to idolatry, God raised up a coad- 
 jutor to Shem in the person of Abraham, to co-operate in the 
 great work of propagating divine truth. To him succeeded 
 Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph, who kindled the light of true reli- 
 gion in Egypt, at that period the most flourishing empire in 
 the world; and to them, Moses, Joshua, Samuel, David, 
 Elijah and Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, and Zachariah. 
 After them arose Esdras, Onias, and the Maccabees; then 
 Simeon, Zacharias, John the Baptist, Christ and his Apostles. 
 I am delighted to contemplate this unbroken succession, which 
 affords conspicuous evidence of the presence of God in his 
 church. The apostles were succeeded by a troop, so to speak, 
 of inferior warriors, but nevertheless distinguished of heaven 
 Polycarp, Irenaeus, Gregory of Neocaesarea, Basil, Augus- 
 tin, Prosper, Maximus, Hugo, Bernard, Talerus, and others ; 
 and although the latter ages present a more barren prospect, 
 God has always preserved a proportion of his servants upon 
 the earth, and now, through Martin Luther, a more splendid 
 period of light and truth has appeared. 
 
 " To this enumeration of the most eminent amongst the 
 sons of men who gathered and reformed the church of God, 
 may be added others who may be regarded as the flower of 
 mankind. Solon, Themistocles, Scipio, Augustus, and others, 
 
LUTHER. 345 
 
 who either established or ruled over mighty empires, were 
 indeed truly great men, but very far inferior to our illustrious 
 leaders, Isaiah, John the Baptist, St. Paul, Augustin, and 
 Luther, and it becomes us to study this distinction. What, 
 then, are those great and important things which Luther has 
 disclosed to our view, which render his life so remarkable, 
 and for which many are exclaiming against him as a disturber 
 of the church and a promoter of inexplicable controversies? 
 I answer, that when the Holy Spirit, in the regulation of the 
 church, reproves the world for sin, dissensions arise out of 
 the pertinacity of wicked men, and they alone are culpable 
 who refuse to listen to the proclamation of the Eternal Father 
 concerning his Son 'This is my beloved Son, HEAR HIM.' 
 Luther explained the true and important doctrine of peni- 
 tence, which was involved in the profoundest darkness. He 
 showed in what it consists, and where refuge and consolation 
 could be obtained under a sense of Divine displeasure. He 
 illustrated the statements of St. Paul respecting justification 
 by faith, and showed the distinction between the law and the 
 gospel, civil and spiritual justification. He pointed out the 
 true principle of prayer, and exterminated that heathenish 
 absurdity of the church, that God was not to be invoked if 
 the mind entertained the least doubt upon an academic ques- 
 tion. He admonished men to pray, in the exercise of faith 
 and a good conscience, to the only Mediator and Son of God, 
 who is seated at the right hand of the Father, making inter- 
 cession for us, and not to images or deceased saints, according 
 to the shocking practice of the ignorant. He also pointed out 
 other servics acceptable to God, was singularly exemplary 
 himself in all the duties of life, and separated the puerilities 
 of human rites and ceremonies, which prevent instead of pro- 
 moting genuine worship, from those services which are essen- 
 tial to obedience. In order that heavenly truth might be 
 transmitted to posterity, he translated the prophetic and 
 apostolic writings into the German language, and with so 
 much accuracy, that his version of itself places Scripture in 
 a more perspicuous light than most commentaries. But he 
 published also various expositions upon the sacred writings, 
 which, in the judgment of Erasmus, by far excelled all others ; 
 and as it is recorded respecting those who rebuilt Jerusalem, 
 * with one hand they laid the stones, and with the other they 
 held the sword ;' so, while he composed annotations on Scrip- 
 ture, replete with heavenly instruction, and consoled afflicted 
 
346 LUTHER. 
 
 consciences by his pious counsels, he was necessitated at the 
 same time to wage incessant war with the adversaries of 
 evangelical truth. When it is recollected that this truth, 
 especially the doctrine of faith and the remission of sins, is 
 not discoverable by the merely human eye, it must be acknow- 
 ledged he was taught of God ; and many of us have witnessed 
 his anxious solicitude to impress the great principle of accept- 
 ance by faith. Multitudes of the saints will therefore praise 
 God to all eternity, for the benefits which have accrued to the 
 church by the labours of Luther. To God their gratitude is 
 primarily due, and then they will own themselves much in- 
 debted to his labours, although infidels, \vho ridicule the church 
 in general, will consider these noble performances as no better 
 than empty trifling or absolute insanity. The true church 
 does not, as some falsely affirm, promote intricate disputations, 
 throw out the apple of contention, and propose the enigmas 
 of the fabled Sphinx ; for to those who judge seriously, and 
 without prejudice, it is easy, from a comparison of opposite 
 opinions, to perceive what are consonant to the statements 
 of heavenly truth, and what are otherwise. Christians are 
 no longer in a state of hesitation on the subject of existing 
 controversies; for when God determined to reveal his will, 
 and display his character in the sacred writings, it is not to 
 be imagined that such a communication would be ambiguous, 
 like the leaves of the ancient Sibyl." 
 
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