611 Poetry:-The Tempest Stilled. away in the utmost consternation: he endeavoured to follow in the dark, and arrived at last in the traveller's room, but found it deserted; he seized a lighted taper, and went up stairs without interruption. He pursued his way to the saloon in question, and there he found—what he had, during the last moments, in some measure expected his own portrait; but represented in such a manner, that he shuddered with horror at the dreadful sight, and had hardly the courage to regard it a second time. He was at no loss as to the painter; because Lewis had from his infancy shown a great talent for the art, and it was but natural, that he should have found a melancholy solace in eternizing the cause of his misery. Frederic was absorbed in these contemplations, when he heard a noise upon the staircase, as if a great number of people were mounting, and on turning round he perceived the most singular procession that could be imagined. A fat monk led the van, with a pot of holy water in one hand, and a large censer in the other; the landlord followed with a rusty old sword, the waiter brandished a boot-jack, and the hostler held a pitchfork, whilst the landlady, bringing up the rear, had armed herself and servants with brooms and flails. The whole fell back as Frederic offered to face them, but the monk took hold of the railing, and exclaimed --Earthly weapons are here of no avail, master Peter, we must contend in a spiritual manner: and thereupon he began to throw the water about with considerable dexterity himself, whilst he directed his companion how to proceed with the censer. It lasted a good while before a negociation could be set on foot; but as soon as the master of the house understood, that the stranger wanted a supper and had got wherewith to pay, his fear left him at once, and he set about his business. The priest however was not so quickly appeased; he declared, that the painter confessed to have murdered the man whom the picture represented, and no sophistry should convince him this was not his spirit. In the mean time Lewis had been sent for, and farther explanations became as easy as the result was pleasing. The two friends had so much the less trouble in adjusting things to 612 their mutual satisfaction, as Frederic had seized the very first moment of comparative tranquillity, to relate the present situation of affairs: he was already married to a younger sister of Laura, and she herself had remained faithful to her first lover, and had never ceased to pray for his return. Even father Boniface finished with blessing the happy change, because, proud as he was upon the master pieces with which his convent had been already enriched, he yet felt that still more might be expected for the future, and that this would be more particularly the case with the grand representation of the day of judgment, in which the damned were indeed drawn with terrible and inimitable effect, but where the blessed were still wanting: the artist had often attempted to sketch them, but he had never been able to satisfy himself with the outline, and it had been as often effaced as planned. Poetry. THE TEMPEST STILLED. THE waves tossed high, the winds roared loud, serene; As erst, when thro' wild chaos thrilled Is rescued in the stormy hour, J. M. G. 613 Poetry:-Goliath of Gath.-Uncertainties.-Man. GOLIATH OF GATH. 1 Sam. xvii. On the mountain the Philistine camped in his pride, With his banners and legions of war was descried ; The flower of his youth, and the sons of his care, And the strength of his kingdom, his nobles, were there; Bat the boast of his warriors, Goliath, of Gath, Was his champion, come forth in dire enmity's wrath. Goliath stalked forward, nine feet and a span Was the height of his form, more of demon than man: With a high brazen helm, and a huge coat of mail, He stood like a pillar of brass in the vale, Which lay 'twixt the armies prepared for the fight, Proud Philistia's sons, and the armed Israelite. With his mighty spear grasp'd, and with loud lofty boasts, He presumptuously challenged the Israelite hosts "The combat's accepted: Goliath's defied." Each army stood silent: Goliath came down From the mount to the valley with ire in his frown; And there came forth to meet him-no fierce man of war, Whose prowess was written in many a scar, But a ruddy-fac'd youth, with no arms save a sling, And a staff, and some stones at the foeman to fling. The giant advanc'd, and he brandish'd his spear, And he scoff'd at the youth of so mean a compeer, And he boasted he'd give to the vulture and crow, The vile carcase that thus dar'd to menace him so; But the youth still approach'd him untainted by fear, For his confidence trusted nor buckler nor spear. He ran-slang a stone, and it whizz'd thro' the air, And the giant's broad brow by his casque was left bare, 614 The stone, like a thunderbolt, struck the swift blow, And the monster reel'd forward, a fall'n, helpless foe; He was levell'd as Dagon in front of the ark, And his boastings were gone like the sheen of a spark. Up! Israel, and follow the flying foes' path, Still baffles the godless idolator's sword; UNCERTAINTIES. J. M. G. And insanity's fires rage wild in the brain; When phrenzy's dire tortures in life's seat are burning, Then 'tis uncertain-when Reason's calmness will reign. When care-teeming sickness, pale anguishing 615 Poetry:-Sonnet.-To a Young Lady.-A Poem. Now he wanders o'er the plains, Experience teaches him that bad and good, SONNET H. D. On the much lamented Death of WILLIAM COW- BY hands unseen, to shield his earthly bed, There shall the village maids and youths repair; bare The hoary moss, and flow'rs to deck the clay, That shields from mould'ring dews the Poet's breast, While pensive wand'ring thro' the moss-grown way At eve, the kindred Muse, in sable drest, TO A YOUNG LADY. THERE'S Something awful in the word Adieu, I wish it were not also thine. Nottingham, July, 1820. A POEM, E. BOURROUS. For the 25th Anniversary of the Literary Fund, THIS Board presents, to Contemplation's view, 616 To drive pale want and misery from the door, Parer the good you never can impart, Dear is the child that milks the mother's So dear is pity to the heart oppress'd! And, like that succour from the ETERNAL The blessing doubles, when the band's an- Some have advanced opinions, that would dry Still was their mirth the wit of Hudibras! That modern Genius gains both wealth and We sometimes see, with pleasure, in our days; flower, 618 When boundless Commerce shall new treasures yield, And the Loom prosper with the abundant field! While the FOURTH GEORGE, as wide as his domain, Extends the blessings of his Father's reign; His sceptre honour'd, as his sword was fear'd; In war triumphant! and in peace rever'd! His Majesty, who is Patron of the Society, Fund, on the Anniversary. has for many years given £200 to the Literary REFLECTIONS ON DEISM. AMONG the various objections which Deism has urged against Christianity, none has appeared to me more entirely destitute of foundation, than, that the idea of the Deity which it presents is unworthy of him. The Bible declares the Almighty to be omniscient, omnipresent, wise, just, and merciful, the source of happiness, of truth, and of life; this then is a character not unworthy of the Governor of the universe. The doctrine of the omnipresence of God, alone, affords a strong presumption of the truth of Christianity; for how was it possible, for a finite mind to conceive the idea of a Being unconfined by space, whose essence penetrates the utmost boundary of creation, if indeed creation has a boundary; to whom the past and future are one eternal present; who controls the motion of worlds; whose will is the sole cause of all existence; and whose being has neither commencement, nor termination? His beneficence has animated matter with life. Unceasingly active, it accompanies the exercise of his power, and produces happiness. Its operation is illimitable, nution or decay. In the endless conand its perfection admits not of diminections and dependencies he has established, there is no disorder or confusion, all is unvarying regularity, for wisdom and omnipotence have linked the chain which binds the whole together. Such is a faint outline of the idea presented by the Scriptures, of the Supreme Being. Is this then, I would ask, the picture of an imperfect, an inconsistent, or, as some have even dared to assert, of a capricious and cruel Being? Assuredly not; it comprehends every excellence which the human mind can conceive, exalted to infinity. With the intellectual faculties unimpaired, and the heart undepraved, man must believe 2 R there is a God. The arguments for this conviction are so multitudinous, that it would be impossible to state them here, even if it were necessary. After assenting to the belief in a God, the next question which arises is, What are his attributes? And here, unassisted reason, if she is candid, will confess, that she is blind;-that her utmost efforts cannot find out God; that her most arduous exertions cannot find out the Almighty to perfection. In spite of all that has been written to prove the contrary, Christianity, and Christianity only, has imparted to the modern infidel that light, which he impiously uses against the source which supplied it. The only fair way to decide the question is, to examine the opinions of those nations not professing Christianity. Ask the Mahommedan, or the Hindoo?-question the inhabitants of the arid desert of Africa, or the trackless wilds of America? Their answers will invariably be a tissue of inconsistency, contradiction, and absurdity. If we turn our eyes to the period antecedent to Christianity, the result obtained will be similar. To account for the fact, that the ancient philosophers were unable to discover the attributes of God, it is asserted, that a decisive improvement has taken place in the human mind, from the experience and discoveries of a long course of years.-Now, though inventions have multiplied, and science has advanced, proving that the progress of intellect has been in many respects commensurate with the progress of ages, yet the works of God which are the only means by which man can judge of his attributes, were as open to the examination of the ancient philosopher as the modern sceptic. Time has wrought no change in them. It is true, that labour and continuous research have discovered the purposes of many of them previously unknown; but this does not invalidate the argument, it only imparts confirmation to what was before conjecture. The nature of the Supreme Being was a subject to which they attached as much importance as we can possibly do; they employed their acutest reasoning faculties, in endeavouring to become acquainted with it; faculties at least equal to those of modern ages, and yet we say, that a just and satisfactory con 620 clusion was reserved for the exclusively enlightened inquirer of the 19th century. The enemy of Christianity is aware that if he impugns its doctrines, and derides its moral obligations, he must substitute a more perfect system in its stead; for the folly of overthrowing an institution which has served as a guiding star for ages, without an adequate substitute, is too grossly palpable to require refutation. obviate this, he resorts to the very source he affects to despise, and pretends to illumine mankind with rays which have shed their brightest lustre, on regions from which he is a selfbanished exile. Το The Deist receives as an elementary principle of his religion, that truth, which has the whole human race for its witnesses, namely, that conscience passes judgment upon all our actions, and either soothes us to complacency by approving them, or goads us with remorse by condemning them. Now if this sentence were never biassed by passion, partiality, or prejudice, its decisions would be infallible, and we might obey its mandates with the certain conviction, that we were fulfilling the will of our Creator. But where is the virtue that has not been degraded into vice? where the vice that has not been deified into virtue? Whole nations have united in renouncing the most indispensable of all moral obligations-honesty; it is true the example must be sought for in the untutored savage; but let it be remembered, the original sense of rectitude was as strongly implanted in his breast, as in that of the polished and civilized European; nay, it is recorded in the melancholy annals of human atrocity, that there are in existence, beings, who regard the total annihilation of the social compact, as a deed which the caprice of appetite will justify. It will be said, perhaps, that Deism acknowledges the immortality of the soul; and therefore disclaims the consequences I have imputed to it. Whatever religion has the belief in the existence of a God for its foundation, must admit the immortality of the soul; for as man is invested with the power of selfdestruction, if the material substance which composes his frame, were not animated by an immortal spirit, he would possess the power of extin |