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Retirement, the Bible, and Christ,
Are heaven's true patent for Rest,
These, these, are the pearls only priz'd
By those who have bliss for a guest:
Truth, reason, and virtue their clue,
They paradise pleasures acquire,
A peace that is evermore new,
A joy that can never expire!

Retirement, composes the mind,

When ruffled with business and care;
For calm meditation is join'd

To silence, reflection, and prayer.
The world and its follies shut out,
The soul in communion above,
Has joy that admits not a doubt,
In Penitence, Pardon, and Love!
The Bible, my mentor and creed,
What comforts its pages unfold !
Of Covenant Mercy I read,

And talk with the sages of old.
The Terra Incognita shores,

By the lamp of the prophets I trace:
I read, and my fancy explores
The regions of glory and grace!

The deeds of my future estate;
My title to pardon is this;
The promise that opens the gate;
The chart that directs me to bliss:
A sketch of new-covenant love;
A record of mercy divine,
Proclaiming the Lamb and the Dove;
The ransom and Comforter mine!
But Christ, in his merit and might,
My purest affections engross;
He charms with an endless delight!

He saves, by the blood of the cross!
His name is sweet melody's ehord ;
His mercy is misery's ray;
All heaven delights in the Lord!
The light of eternity's day!
Say, ye who decipher the sky,
And analyze ocean and land,
Can nature's arcana supply

A trio so lovely and grand?

I have found the philosopher's stone,
But not in earth, ocean, or air,
Ureka! the bliss is my own!

In Jesus, my Bible, and Prayer!
Worcester, J. MARSDEN.

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

WHEN Autumn's leaf lies sear upon the ground,
And nature seems to wait the awful pause,
The coming desolation of a world;
When all its beauty, all its wonted bloom,
Stripp'd by the wintry wind's rude chilling blasts,
At once disclose its sad, tho' mournful tale;
Ah! then the mind, attuned in consonance
With the faded year, doth seek for kindred scenes
Of sombre pleasure, and of grave delight.
She loves the churchyard's site, and charnel vault,
The cloister's gloom, and silent sepulchre ;
Or, lonely musing, treads the echoing aisle
Of venerable pile, or proud cathedral.
Led by such thought, I sought the Abbey walls,
Fit spot to raise the mind to contemplation,
And bid it fasten on eternal things.
Solemn and slow, I bent my thoughtful steps,
As thro' the gloomy cloisters, death-like still,
I reach'd the threshold of its sacred porch.
My very footsteps echoed thro' the pile,
As on I passed, to gaze among the tombs.
Struck by the vast and deep solemnity

Of this thrice hallow'd spot, the spirit shrinks,
Itself astounded, mid the deep repose

That wraps th' illustrious dead. Here I beheld,
Each in his own sad marble monument,
The crumbling relics of once sceptred kings.
The warrior, prostrate in the lowly dust,

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Is silent as the marble that records
His empty trophies, and achievements proud;
The sage historian, and the mitred head,
In one cold grave together sleep. The bard,
Whose tuneful harp pour'd forth its loftiest strain,
Taught by the hand now motionless in death,
Can sweep the chord no more. The patriot,
Whose burning lip of eloquence awoke
(Amid his country's wrongs) a Tully's strain,
And drew from list'ning senators perforce
The long and loud applause.-But oh! how
changed!

The eye, that piercing beamed with heaven's own fire,

(Th' immortal mind's once silent orator,

That oft-times speaks more eloquent than words,)
Is closed in darkest night. The lip is sealed
In mute oblivion; while the speechless tongue
Is hushed to all its wonted harmony.

The only frail memorial that survives,

Of cherished worth, with foud remembrance fraught,

Is the cold marble record of decay,

The "storied urn, or animated bust."

Ah! is it thus ?-must all th' exploits of man,

His proud achievements, and illustrious deeds,
That burning wish for immortality

For which he sighed the glory of a name;
Alas! is this his only recompense,

To be entombed among the kingly dead,
Here to repose, amid funereal pomp,
Within the precincts of this wondrous pile?!
This, this is all the boasting world can give,
That of itself is one vast sepulchre,
The gilded mockery of its own decay.
Magnificent, vast, and proud mausoleum,
We cannot gaze, but feel inspiring awe,
A secret thrill of wonder and delight,
As, upward glancing, fix our roving eye
In mute amazement o'er thy fretted roof;

Or turning, catch with sudden view the distant arch,

Th' emblazoned monument, and the long-drawn aisle.

Here arose the loud and pealing organ,
With dulcet notes of thousand instruments,
Music's own jubilee ;-that thro' the nave,
In willing anthems, struck upon the ear
In awful pæans harmonious;-a tribute
Raised, in Handel's praise commemorative.
Thou pile of hoar magnificence, where oft
The cowled monk hath trod in ancient times
Thy marble pavement,-where mightiest monarchs,
Robed in regal state, enthroned have sat ;-here
Swayed the golden sceptre,-while o'er their
brows

(The glitt'ring pomp, and garniture of kings,)
First blazoned forth the royal diadem.
Thou pinnacle of glory, the palace
Of grim death;-the dark cemetery that holds
Thennobled great,-the mighty of our land.
Thou cunning piece of handy workmanship,
That hast survived the crumbling touch of time,
While other fanes lie prostrate in the dust;
Thou monument of a nation's greatness,
Beautiful Abbey;-the sight of whose proud
Gothic architecture hath enkindled,

In the breast of ardent youth, that throbbing
Impulse, which doth excite to loftiest deeds.
The rapt enthusiast in poetic lore,

The child of fond imaginings, might here,

As gazing on the honoured monument

Of Shakespear, drink new and inspiring draughts
From inspiration's fount.-The darling sons
Of science, and divine philosophy,
Might to a Newton point exultingly,
And to a kindred elevation rise;
That, fired by genius, wit, and eloquence,
Like those illustrious compeers of their day,
Might climb the steep ascent that leads to fame,
And leave, like them, in honour's temple reared,
Some record 'graved on monumental stone.
Dec. 1828. J. S. H.

Earl of Chatham.

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THE FEAST OF BELSHAZZAR.

(By R. Shelton Mackenzie.)

"She fell unwept-Gehenna of the nations."
A THOUSAND lords before Belshazzar met,
At the rich palace of Assyria's king:
Imperial dainties and rich wines were set
Before the guests, for mirth and wassailing.
And woman's smiles were there, and eyes of jet

Flung passion-glances thro the glittering ring,
And many a brimming cup that eve was crowned,
To the fair dames, as went the revel round.
Belshazzar's brain was fired, he could not hold
The pride that rose, beneath his diadem,-
"Bring forth the cups of silver and of gold,
That, from the temple of Jerusalem,
The king, my conquering father, brought of old;
We and our princes shall drink out of them!"
Thus spoke the monarch, and the cups were brought,
With precious gems and curious carvings wrought.
Out of these cups they drank, and vainly praised
Their idol-gods, as went the red wine round:
And music lent her charms, and beauty blazed:
Within that banquet could a sigh be found?
Light joy and jocund mirth were soothly raised
In every breast, and there might well abound,
For on that eve all things were brightly blent,
To make the gorgeous feast magnificent.
Rich sculpture there had raised his skilful hand,
Waking almost to life the Parian bust:
And painting had depicted all, that land,

Or sea, or sky contained of breathing dust: Magnificence had wav'd her magic wand

Above that scene of proud Belshazzar's lust: And night was treading on the steps of day, Where, at that feast, sat down the proud array Of all Assyria's lords before her king!—

There too, fair beauty sat in state, and smiledSweet smiles, for ye what varied worships spring! And speaking looks all silently beguiled The hours, as love's imagining

Flush'd her white cheek; and beautifully wild, Wav'd back the tendrils of her raven hair, Which seem'd, in such a scene, like banners in the air.

So free they wanton'd with the vassal breeze

That sported on light wings thro' the gay hall, Giving the very flowers mute ecstacies.

Dashing white spray from the cool waterfall
Which shone before a grove of fragrant trees,-
Stirring the ivy of the coronal

Which, on that evening, on the hot brow shone
Of proud Belshazzar, king of Babylon!

And there were thrilling sounds from lyre and lute,
There were rich clusters of the purple grape,
There were sweet breathings from the soft Greek
flute,-

And many a dancer's half aerial shape. Ha!-wherefore are the lips of music mute? Why, half-uprisen, doth Belshazzar gape? He sees a hand, and it is seen by all, Tracing strange words upon the palace-wall! His countenance was chang'd, his thoughts were pain,

His limbs grew moveless, and his heart grew cold;

Then sank he down upon his throne again,

And summon'd all his men of wisdom oldChaldeans and astrologers-'twas in vain.

None could the marvel of the words unfold: The king was troubled, all his joyance filed, He bowed his head, and sat as one astonished, 'Till Daniel came, and in his words were shewn The prophet-power that filled his glowing breast, For unto him the Lord had given alone

That knowledge which his will denied the rest. His vision saw the streets with murders strewn,

The Medes and Persians in the rich spoils drest. Belshazzar heard the warning: but in vain, He smil'd, and turn'd him to his feast again, 124.--VOL. XI.

That night Darius and his armies came,

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In countless numbers rushed the Persians on. Soon was Belshazzar's palace robed in flame. He called upon his lords, but they had flown, Shouted aloud his idol Baal's name,

And cursed him in his ire; when Babylon, Scene of his lusts, beheld him call in vain :That night Belshazzar lay among the slain !

[It is not a little remarkable, that sacred and profane history are at issue as to the name of the conqueror of Babylon. The former attributes its downfall to Darius, the latter to Cyrus. Now the very site of Babylon is matter for conjecture,-In this how truly

"There is obscurity and fame, The glory and the nothing of a name."

HOME.

Lines at Parting From a Young Officer in the
Army to his Wife.

THE packet is ready: how sickens my heart!
Each feeling is riven. Alas! do we part?
The surges of passion drive o'er me their foam;
My happiness, dearest, is sever'd from home!
The bosom of ocean will heave thee away,
Tho' sorrow, all aching, would linger and stay;
But brighten, my sweetest !-Our Erin will be
A home to my darlings, a parent to thee.
The bugle that gladdens the veteran's core,
Shall quicken my pulses of pleasure no more
Ere, graced with his honours, thy soldier be found
At home, with embraces of tenderness bound.
To-morrow the vessel will bear me along
To lands oriental, with music and song;
But ne'er shall a fibre, that parting has wrung,
Expand, till the chorus of home shall be snng.
As over the billows my troubles shall flow,
The tempest above me, the waters below,
The turtle of comfort can visit my bark,
And bless to my spirit the home of an ark.
Ye idolized rivers which rove in the East;
Ye thickets of danger, abodes of the beast;
Ye pagods or idols, offensive to view ;-
Ah how shall your foreigner home among you?
Anon, in the glowing domain of the sun,
The land by the greatness of Albion won,
A Zion, arising with temple of prayer,
May open the gates of a home for me there.
How, then, shall affection's devotional flames
Inspirit my breastplate of jewels and names !-
The husband and father, where'er he may roam,
Is ever anointed the priest of his home.

My colours may scorch in eruptions of fight,
As hotly they rush on the armies of might;
But thoughts of my home with enchantment will

come,

To hearten me more than the trumpet or drum.

If mercy propitiously smile on my life,
And raise me in sickness, and shield me in strife,
And guard in temptation, and save me from harm,
Until I regain thee, my home and my charm-

O then! what a symbol of heaven will be
The meeting of rapture! the breast's jubilee !--
The tones of our cherubs, with home's happy noise,
Will echo the chime of our new-marriage joys!
Dover, Feb. 10th, 1829.
JACOB SMITH,

"GO AND SIN NO MORE."-John, Chap. 8. WOMAN! if e'er by wayward passions sway'd, Thy heart beguiled to folly stoops;

If e'er, thro' guilt in witching smiles array'd,
Thy chastened soul in sorrow droops;
Then wash away, with tears of anguish deep,
The many griefs that wound thee sore;
Go to thy Saviour, who can with thee weep,
Who bids thee "Go, and sin no more."
Bath.
R. MONTGOMERY.

2 A

355

"COURAGE to think," says the motto, in the title-page of this volume," is infinitely more rare than courage to act; and yet the danger in the former case is only imaginary; in the latter, real." Admitting the correctness of this very questionable position, it must be acknowledged that there are in the present day a very considerable number, and Mr. Jones is one of them, of remarkably courageous men. No one, who for a moment refers his mind to the numerous productions of the most free and independent thinking, to which modern times have given birth, will be prepared to contend, that we live, in this respect, in degenerate days. The vassallage of human opinion, under which the intellectual and moral world for so many ages suffered, no longer exists. The present is emphatically the age of inquiry; and the danger to be apprehended is, that amid the universal manumission, liberty, in many cases, should run riot, and abuse its privilege. The waters of knowledge, which the selfishness and tyranny of man had so long frozen and bound up, impatient of restraint, and bursting the mounds which formed unlawful limits, are seen to flow impetuously through every channel, and too often, forgetful of their proper course, to inundate and destroy.

We can tell Mr. Jones what is much more rare," than courage either to think or to act, and that is, to temper courage in thinking and acting, with skill and discretion, to direct it to suitable objects, and for real advantage. Enterprises undertaken presumptuously, and executed rashly, are, unfortunately, not uncommon in the mental, any more than in the physical world. Pride and vain glory have inspired many with courage to think-if there is any virtue in this. To oppose the prevailing sentiments and prejudices of men, to display their ingenuity in raising objections to them, to shew themselves superior to the influence of early education and example, to attract attention by the novelty of their opinions, and astonish by their boldness and temerity, have, by a strange disorder of the mental vision, appeared great and magnanimous, and supplied a too successful temptation to

356

and to propagate the most monstrous indulge the wildest vagaries of thought,

errors.

To this spirit, in connexion with a yet more criminal one, that of malignity and hostility to the truths of the gospel, may be referred the motive which has prompted the numerous and laboured productions of infidels. Under the specious and imposing designation of "free-thinkers," they have been the most obsequious slaves of prejudice and pride; and while professedly doing homage at the shrine of reason, they have bowed in heart before the idol form of a vain and contemptible ambition.

In perusing this article, if it meet his eye, should Mr. Jones tax us with designing in these remarks an unfavourable bearing towards his production, we must candidly confess that we should be unable to plead not guilty to the charge. That the doctrine of divine prescience occupies a most important place in the orthodox creed, and that it has a most influential bearing upon points of theology, which have ever perplexed and divided the Christian world, is sufficiently obvious; that Mr. Jones, in common with other men, should feel his mind burdened by this difficulty, and be anxious to disencumber himself of it, that he may fancy he has at last discovered the clue to the mighty labyrinth, and that he should be anxious to make known his discovery to the world, is both natural and laudable; that in the execution of this task he should manifest the earnestness and over-heated zeal of enthusiasm, cannot excite surprise, and should by no means be matter of censure.

Much has been written upon the subject of this treatise,-the topic is by no means exhausted; and we were prepared cheerfully to follow Mr. Jones, or any other author, into the "Inquiry" to which he invites us, though certainly not, with the writer, "for the purpose of ascertaining whether that doctrine be supported by the dictates of reason, and the writings of the Old and New Testaments." In connexion with this doctrine as a rational and scriptural truth, we have entertained no doubts, nor in truth has Mr. Jones succeeded in creating any. In spite of some reasoning, and more declamation and dogmatism, which he has employed, we retain, with unshaken confidence, the belief that Prescience" unoriginated, infinite, and eternal," belongs to God; that it is a necessary attribute of the divine character; that it is essential to that moral government of the world, which Jehovah evidently exercises; that this doctrine is distinctly asserted in various passages of the sacred. oracles, and, moreover, is undoubt

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edly proved by the fulfilment of scripture prophecy.

The perusal of the volume before us, we are free to confess, has sadly disappointed, and painfully grieved us. It is not the bad reasoning which it contains, that so much offends us, though that is deplorable enough, but the improper spirit which is manifested throughout the production. We do not for a moment question (our knowledge of his character forbids it) the perfect good faith of Mr. Jones. We are compelled to believe that he has the most entire conviction that the opinions he has broached are plain and indisputable truths, and that he firmly believes that the arguments by which he has attempted to support them, are completely successful, and must appear so to every one who is capable of fully comprehending and adequately estimating them. And yet, were we to form an opinion solely from his book itself, we should be far wide of this idea.

If the author had withheld his name from his volume, we should, in all probability, have pronounced it the production of a disguised infidel; and with difficulty we should have believed, that it could be the work of a Christian divine," earnestly contending for the faith once delivered to the saints." The tone of ridicule and sarcasm, of apparent irreverence and impiety, which the writer assumes, in treating upon the important and solemn theme of his discussion, we are persuaded, is calculated to produce this impression upon the mind of every pious and judicious reader.

In the spirit and temper of his production, Mr. Jones is in every way unhappy. Whatever may be his own opinion of the doctrine of Divine prescience, and however impregnable in his view may be the arguments by which he has defended that opinion, the very worst policy has dictated his mode of attack. In proportion as an error is prevalent, or confirmed by long standing in the minds of men, especially when it is associated with their religious feelings, an effort to expose, to overcome, and destroy it, should be prudent and wise. Difficulty, when duty commands us to meet it, ought never to create fear; but it should inspire caution. The task which our author has undertaken is bold in its design, and is attended by infinite difficulty and hazard in the execution. He is not opposing the peculiarities of any religious sect, however numerous and respectable, but he is combating a doctrine, which has place in every orthodox, and, we may say, in every religious creed. He is in arms against Christendom. With the exception

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of a few professors of religious truth, who are already half converted to infidelity, or, with Mr. Jones himself, are "floundering in the sloughs of absurdity," his opinions have not the advantage of the sympathies and suffrages of any men. He must make converts, and this by the dint of argument and persuasion. The tide of universal prejudice runs against him; and extraordinary dexterity, as well as vigour, are necessary, to force his way through the current. As we have before intimated, he has entered the arena 66 in a questionable shape." His bearing, to general view is dubious. Whatever be his design, he has girded on the armour of infidels, and is wielding their weapons. This is bad tact; if any hope of success could exist, it has been defeated by this unskilful mode of procedure. Mr. Jones must surely be better acquainted with human nature, than to imagine that men are to be hectored out of their opinions and belief. If argument will not convince, declamation and philippic, ridicule and banter, will not; such weapons, indeed, will only recoil upon the assailant. But our author has anticipated these animadversions, and his vindication is, that he has a right to treat thus cavalierly his opponents.

"Falsehood has no claims upon courtesy, and error has no right to toleration; and yet it is a notorious fact, that the doctrine of eternal prescience is retained in the creed of most of its advocates, merely by the exercise of a theological toleration, or by that of a theoretical connivance."

No! we beg the writer's pardon; he commits a notorious mistake. We will venture, in the name of the advocates of the doctrine of prescience, to affirm, that it is retained in their creed as an article of settled and sincere belief; and we challenge Mr. Jones to produce the shadow of proof from the writings of orthodox divines, of his bold and unwarranted assertion. The extract which he has made from a paper in the ninth volume of the Arminian Magazine, cannot be quoted as an authority, since we are persuaded the crude statements which it contains, are not in unison with the general opinions on this subject, of the Wesleyan denomination.

To identify this doctrine, as the writer does, with the most glaring religious errors which obtained during the darkness of the middle ages, is a most unwarrantable liberty. When he has succeeded in convincing the world, by dispassionate reasoning, of the error of this doctrine; when he can convict mankind of yielding to it a mere verbal acknowledgment, after they suspect its truth, or are convinced of its falsity; when, by his, or any other hands,

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it is actually gibbeted in public esteem; then, and not till then, can he plead a right to heap upon it the indignities with which he has assailed it.

But our author will probably challenge us, as he has done the fictitious opponent which he has introduced in his prefatory dialogue, to produce any sentiment or phrase by which an improper spirit has been manifested; we will therefore beg to refer him to a few paragraphs in his volume, observing, that it is not against particular sentiments or phrases merely, but against the general tone and temper of his production, that our objection lies.

"It (the doctrine of an infinite prescience) is a species of theological vermin that has infested the sanctuary of the Christian church for many ages; the worshippers of Jesus had even learned to venerate these hoary depredators as the hereditary and unalienable tenants of the mansion so that when any; person has begun to rid the house of God of these nocturnal enemies, by entangling them in the snares of his arguments, or cominitting them at once to the faithful jaws of a logical deduction, he has thereby excited the sympathies of the whole Christian world, and drawn down upon his luckless head a larger quantity of popular indignation than did the cruel and sanguinary Herod, when he massacred the babes of Bethlehem."P. xi.

"And let me ask, why this vagabond impostor of eternal prescience, that has been travelling over Europe for these fourteen centuries, should not be kicked off the stage, hooted out of town; transported beyond the seas, or suspended from the gallows?-p. 192.

"The notion of an eternal prescience is the most invidious aud deleterious nostrum that was ever foisted upon the credulity of the human mind, and the most adulterating ingredient that was ever introduced into Christian theology."-p. 193. "A believer in the doctrine of an eternal 'prescience is a mere religious griffith." (griffin)-p.57.

Let Mr. Jones seriously review these passages, and similar ones which his volume contains, and he will not, we think, persist in affirming that he is not conscious of any breach of courtesy in any thing which he has written, nor that he has been guilty of any offence against the claims of Christian charity. Should he ever, as we trust he will, undergo a change of opinion upon this subject, he will sincerely regret that such sentiments have been ever suffered to escape his pen.

But it is time we notice the argumentative part of the volume; for, says the au

thor→→

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cannot posses infinite prescience, because1. Actual existence is the only legitimate source of knowledge; and knowledge, even in the divine mind, cannot exceed the limits of positive existence. 2. Future events, contingent in re, cannot be objects of certain prescience. 3. The foreknowledge of moral actions is inconsistent with the moral probation of man, 4. The doctrine is also irreconcilable with the moral agency of God, with his eternal existence, and his righteous government of the world.

The first position is thus stated—

"It is, I presume, agreed on by all parties, that in the order of nature, the knowledge of any fact or event must always be subsequent to its occurrence; because the fact or event itself must support the knowledge of its existence. It is true, indeed, that knowledge must always imply the actual existence of an intelligent being, who is the possessor of that knowledge; and it is equally true, that the existence of knowledge must always demonstrate the actual existence of the object of that knowledge. But we read of foreknowledge, and we believe in the existence of foreknowledge; and especially we believe that the Deity has a prescience of future events. How then is the subject of foreknowledge to be understood, so as to be in unison with the sentiment at the beginning of this paragraph? The purpose of bringing about a future event, and the causation that is to secure the issue, are now in actual existence, and are the real objects of the divine cognizance; but the future event, which is in reality the object of his purpose, and therefore the object of his antici pation, is expressed as though it were purely an object of perception. And for this reason, although foreknowledge, in strict philosophical propriety, would be absolutely inadmissible, yet its applica tion to an anticipated issue, is perfectly admis sible, and quite intelligible. Causation implies issue; and, therefore, the knowledge of a cause, implies the anticipation of its effect. For the will and purpose of the Deity must imply an anticipation of the consequent issue, and are a suffi cient security for its future transpiration; and even if the knowledge of a principle or habit, in any being, must imply an anticipation of a consequent issue, and if such a knowledge be a sufficient warrant to expect that the issue will afterwards actually transpire, then there can be no impropriety in designating such anticipations by the name of foreknowledge. And this, I conceive, to be the legitimate and only sense in which the term prescience can be applicable to any actual p. 37.

knowledge, whether it be human or divine.”—

The principal objections which are in this volume urged against the doctrine of Divine prescience, as generally received, may be thus briefly stated:--The Deity

it

mined shall hereafter exist; if, therefore, every event which transpires in the universe should be the object of divine purpose, then every event is the object of his fore knowledge; in other words, the Deity possesses infinite prescience.