SECOND EDITION. ] A Literary, Moral, and Scientific Journal. [ DEC. 7, 1822. He that teaches us any thing that we knew not before, is undoubtedly to be reverenced as a master; he that conveys knowledge by more pleasing ways, may very properly be loved as a benefactor; and he that supplies life with innocent amusement, will certainly be caressed as a pleasing companion.-JOHNSON. No. 1.-VOL. I. TO THE PUBLIC. WHEN the first number of a publication like the HERMES makes its appearance, the attention of readers is naturally directed to the Preface, and the probable character of the work is by some decided on from the professions and the talent which are exhibited in the address to the public. But there is nothing easier than to make promises,-except it be to break them; and in the tact of prospectus-writing, every ephemeral scribbler may display as much facility as the "renowned Christopher North," or the famous trumpeters of Turner's Blacking. We could very easily throw together two pages, in stating, â la Blackwood, how our SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1822. 'want of room' excludes from their pages many The last page of the Hermes will be BIOGRAPHY. Quid de quoque viro, et cui icas,tepe caveta. No. I. as to unfold to themselves those peculiarities of manner and style in their preaching, which they cannot see "but by reflection from some other thing.". Should it fall out in the sequel, that any inadvertent remark is made upon the doctrines of individuals, which, however, we will strive to avoid,-or that any minister is omitted in the series; we beg these not to conceive that we contemn them, and of the former anticipate forgiveness. Doubtless some of the gentlemen will already say, we are at perfect liberty to pass them by in our office of kindness ;but we repeat our assurance that nothing invidious or detractive shall characterise the work: "When pleased to praise, and not afraid to blame.” We commence our series with a sketch of the Rev. Thomas Raffles, LL. D. editorial trio met together on the eve of pub Sketches of Eminent Clergymen in Lancashire, because we happen to have it in a more lication,-drained six bottles of claret and three of Cognac, exhausted the patience of our principal's housekeeper, and wearied our "learned selves," whilst consulting on the plan of our work, and traversing the universe of letters to find an appropriate title. But it is not our wish to excel in this vitiated species of composition; the title is chosen; and the general design of the Hermes now before the public, whose contributions we respectfully solicit. One thing we feel it our duty to state, -that we respect religion and morality as the palladium of our country, and the only source of personal happiness; and, whilst we shall be careful not to admit any thing into our columns which may tend to excite the spirit of religious controversy, it will be our solicitude to prefer every means of promoting true virtue and essential knowledge. REV. T. RAFFLES, LL.D. AND HONORARY MEMBER OF THE LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY OF NEW YORK. advanced state than any other: else we should have given precedeney to that of a minister of the established church. This gentleman was born in the parish of Christchurch, Spitalfields, A. D. 1788, and in 1804 was entered a student of the Dissenters' Acadamy, at Homerton. In 1811 he was invited to the pastorship The ministry of the gospel is the most of the Independent or Congregational honorable office which a human being moved to the chapel in Great GeorgeChurch, Newington, and with it recan sustain; and the man who discharges conscientiously the duties that devolve street, Liverpool, built for the congreupon him as a public teacher of religion, gation of the amiable and unfortunate is entitled to the highest possible respect Spencer; whose early death, whilst of his fellow-men. The object, therefore, bathing, was lamented by most of the which we propose in giving to our readers evangelical population of England. a series of papers under the above title, the time of Mr. Raffles' accession, the interest of the Independents was compais neither to make the sacred calling of the ministry matter of captious or irre- ratively young in this town, and the imverent animadversion; nor to awaken mense congregation which the talent of of extraordinary abilities to secure. Mr. Spencer had raised, it required a man Raffles had the gratification to find that the primitive number of his members a controversy on the tenets which any denomination of Christians may have been It may be demanded, what inducement have led to espouse. We say "God speed!" the printers of the Hermes for issuing such to every sect which aims to promote the present and eternal happiness of man; a work in Liverpool, where there is already considering the leaders of the several a similar paper, of a character little infe- communions as so many officers of divirior to that which they propose? We answer,sions, marching their bodies through without dissimulation, that which is the ruling various routes to one destination, and all incentive to undertakings of this kind in ge- in subserviency to the great Captain of neral, a view to profit; and although we in some measure concede, that "lucrum sine damno alterius fieri non potest," yet as it is acknowledged by contemporary editors, that salvation. The clerical sketches are in- At and hearers did not decrease; and an elapse of ten years, during which period his congregation has not fallen away, has indisputably proved his very superior talents. The doctrines he preaches are not the most popular, so that little of his esteem the communion of Independent churches, viz. by public profession and recognition of principles and experience, whilst sons, exempts a great majority of the hearers from some of church. • It must be remarked, that the manner of admission to it prevents the union of many delicate and conscientious perthe obligations which bind the immediate members of the can be laid at the door of religious prejudice;—his sermons, moreover, are generally of a practical tone, and of course opposed to the general habits of society; so that to the power of persuasion only must be attributed the constant attendance of his large and respectable congregation. This is the more obvious, as Gt. Georgestreet is far from the centre of the town, and adjacent to the fashionable resort of St. Mark's church. bold allusions and ingenious comparisons "In thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." his immediate care, and dependant for their happiness on his will and pleasure. Such being the case, we are bound by the law of nature to exercise over them a mild dominion; to protect them from evil; and to render their enjoyment as permanent as may be, without injury or danger to ourselves. Knowing that their Dr. Raffles does not labor to appear existence terminates with the present profound; and we like his sermons the life, and that their happiness consists better on this account. Heavy reason-merely in the gratification of the appetites during that existence, we feel it particularly incumbent upon us to prolong, and not to curtail their duration. We first heard this gentleman undering does well enough in lectures and writa strong prejudice, from the reported ings designed for the studious; but in extravagance of his action, and the too oral addresses to a promiscuous assembly, Were we to behold a man wantonly ornate style of his discourses; but left every part of which should be immedihim under a very different impression. ately comprehended, the plain and es- deprive an animal of life, to thrust, for "Gravity and warmth," characterised his sential truths of religion are most fitting. instance, the fatal steel into the vitals of manner; and though his style was more There are also books of theology enough a horse, and then exult in its sudden fall figurative than that of preachers in general, in the world; and men have been sufli- and dying convulsions; should we not this we considered as his chief excellence. ciently harrassed with unimportant con- exclaim against the perpetrator of so If rhetoric be the art of clothing truth in troversies. It is high time for all deno- foul an act, as an inhuman monster; as the most pleasing dress, and if the truths minations to attend to "the weightier unworthy to be ranked with rational and of religion have the greatest claim on hu- matters of the law, judgment, mercy and sensible beings; as a sanguinary and unman notice, we know not why a preacher faith." For all this, Dr. Raffles supports principled tyrant? And yet mark our should discard the ornaments of discourse. his doctrinal positions with much new too general apathy to the same horrid act, It is equally common and uncharitable to and able reasoning. We recently heard committed on a more diminutive object, charge fine speakers with 'theatrical him preach from Heb. iii. 12, and have and blush at the inconsistency of our affectation,' thirst for popularity,' and no hesitation in declaring, that for legi- feelings! Observe the same wantonness meretricious eloquence;' as if vanity and timacy of argument, chasteness of style, in the ordinary treatment of the inferior false taste were necessary concomitants of and pure evangelical sentiment, we have genera, and exclaim "what inhumanity in original and striking address. There is seldom heard a superior sermon. Taking human minds?" Witness the daily crua medium in all things; nor does Dr. him for all in all, we consider this gen- elties of carters, coachmen and butchers; Raffles overstep the "modesty of nature." tleman as a model for the pulpit. Devoid witness the malignant pleasure of the He has the true "art of bringing down of pedantry, scholastic stiffness, and sect-sportsman, which is yet more deliberately his hearers, and then binding them," arian verbiage-elegant, devout, and ar- and criminally ferocious. Some show of which is the perfection of oratory. dent; his appearance in the pulpit re- palliation may be offered for men whose minds us of the poet's beautiful apos- necessary avocations tend to harden the trophe:feelings and irritate the passions; but no extenuation can be made for those, who wage war against the irrational world merely from taste or caprice. Dr. Raffles is highly gifted by Providence. Together with a fine person and well-formed countenance, which innate affability and complacency appear to govern, he has a melodious voice and a vivacity of conception. His enunciation. is distinct and clear; and his emphases are generally correct. In this particu lar, however, he sometimes fails; owing to his illustrations being in great part extempore. There is also an indistinctness in his sound of the terminational r; and perhaps he dwells too long on the sibilant. Some persons have objected to the tremulous motion of his fore-finger, and the cough with which he occasionally unites his periods; but these are mere specks in the galaxy of excellences for which he is peculiar; and human taste, too, is so diversified, that were preachers to regard every complaint of redundancy, their sermons would often be reduced to skeletons, and themselves to stocks: under which impressions our remarks are made with deference. We cannot but observe, however, that Dr. Raffles is not most happy in his phraseology or most edifying in his discourses, when he makes the greatest effort. His There stands the messenger of truth. There stands The sacramental host of God's elect. An expert angler will coolly take from its native bed the embryo-bee,-torture it on his hook,-and with the writhing bait lure to agony and death another innocent and unconscious creature. An able marksman sees a swallow gliding He is the author of "Memoirs of the through the air,―he fires,-the poor aniLife and Ministry of the Rev. T. Spen- mal falls dead at his feet,-or, strugcer," "Tour through France, Switzer- gling for a season in blood and torment, land, &c." "Lectures on Practical Re-expires. The huntsman too, rouses ligion," "Lectures on the Most Impor tant Doctrines of Revealed Religion," and other works. Legum Doctor is the presentation of Aberdeen University; on the recommendation of the Dukes of Sussex and Somerset. POLITE LITERATURE. Cruelty to animals. "The poor beetle that we tread upon "In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great We behold around us creatures of 27 MAR 1931 from its covert the timid hare or the against the carter who overloads his horse, or the butcher who needlessly smites his bullock;-such is the kind of dominion he exercises over the creatures of his pleasure, who is most ready to revolt at despotism himself, and to revenge an act of pain. And are they a whit the more tender, who encourage by their applause, such barbarous conduct? Do they not equally undervalue the works of God? Do they not both practically impugn the power and wisdom of him without whose knowledge not even a sparrow falleth to the ground? is so It has been translated from Pythagoras, "He that hath hardened himself by killing a sheep, will with less reluctance shed the blood of a man;" and it cannot but be true, that on this, as on every other matter affecting the character of men, custom produces habit, and "habit is second nature." Let us pause then, ere we destroy a creature, which, however minute or trifling it may appear, complicated and misterious in its construction, that we could not repair it though we were endowed with the power of an archangel, or our existence protracted to an eternal duration. Let us, whilst applauding the law of our country, which shields from cruelty the more useful of the instinctive creation, obey the law of our nature, which forbids the destruction of the harmless. Liverpool. W. E. choly musing on a December night, "when And who has not heard much of the "The poet's eye in a fine phrensy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;" the man of business, when the labors of But I can tell you of something which is capable of affording peculiar pleasure. What can it be? surely it must be in the abodes of solitude,-in intercourse with the sages of Greece and Rome,-" in converse with the mighty dead." No-all this is very well; but it is something better still. All these exercises have a tendency to make us admire and be in love with others; mine shall cause me to be in love with myself-these dispose us to be only pleased with and to eulogise the labors of beings who are now insensible of praise-mine shall teach me to be proud of my own works. To come to the “Tis strange,—'tis passing strange," matter, it is the pleasure which a philothat since all mankind are (as their pre-sophical soul experiences, when-reading decessors have been) in search of plea- a DULL BOOK. sure; and as so many works have been written on the subject, the world should have any one means of enjoyment without its votaries. Yet such is the fact; and in times too when the inventors of pleasure seem to be as much at their wits' The Pleasure of reading a Dull Book. end as when a certain monarch offered a premium for the discovery of a new one. To mention all the causes of human pleasure, would be to count the sands upon the sea-shore; but I will mention a few. The huntsman riots in the high regions of exhilaration; the card-player is enraptured at a fortunate " turn-up" the lover sits beside his mistress, with his heart bounding, It has been said that when in misery, we are pleased to see that others are still more wretched than ourselves; I am sure that we are pleased to find others more senseless; for which very reason it is that the best possible remedy for dejection, low spirits, and humility, is a DULL BOOK. Should I ever be able to form a library according to my taste, Johnson, Milton, Addison, Gibbon, et hoc genus omne shall be there of course, handsomely bound in calf-skin or Russia leather, gilt and lettered, turned up with dog-ears, and greatly mauled, if it be only to convince "have a taste." my friends that I really But I must have, moreover, a few choice favorites, such as most men neglect and despise; here shall be found a selection of those superlatively dull books, which no mortal, save the author, had ever courage to read, and which most scholars of the present day, would deem fit only to line trunks, clothe spice, or perform such like menial offices. Tomes of casuistry, and the massive works of the seventeenth century, on "Fixed fate, free will, fore-knowledge absolute;" whatever is far-fetched, forced, dry, and unnatural; whatever presents a chaos of confusion and absurdity, without one redeeming quality; whatever author has ventured out of his depth, and exposed his own weakness, or like satan, in "Paradise Lost," hath soared into forbidden regions, when "fluttering his pennons vain, Plumb down he fell," should most assuredly have a place in my unique collection. Are you in one of those sulky moods, when you cannot please yourself, and when, you know not why, no one can please you; then retire for a few hours, not to a classical author, nor to the " chanting muse," for under such circumstances, they might perhaps drive you to desperation, but to the dullest proser within your reach. en If you sit down to the works of Pope, Johnson, Scott, Hazlitt, or Southey, you will no doubt be instructed; if you have no ambition for personal excellence, you will be abundantly satisfied. But if you are longing for literary honors;-if about to tempt the keenness of criticism, by appearing in print; you will turn away in the loathing of abhorrence, or the sulkiness Perhaps, after wading through the of despair. A fine passage from such mud and mire of a page or two, your writers may enrapture those without spleen may increase, yet persevere; alambition; but it will make a true genius though you should wander through whole miserable for half a week. There he chapters without discovering a single ray finds excellence which he cannot hope to of light-that is to say, without being attain, and which he dare scarcely attempt; able to find out your author's meaning, he compares the distance he has jour- still persist; you will shortly begin to neyed with that before him, and is dis- show signs of convalescence, such as mayed;-if he ventures to return to his contempt for your author; then pity for speculations, they appear so cold, so him; then a better, and as you proceed, strained and so ridiculous, that he can a still better opinion of yourself; and, scarcely find in his heart to proceed in finally, if you have only patience to read them any further." But a dull book,-I far enough, perfect self-complaisance. mean one of those stupidly dull books, You may then return to the world, pleaswhere all is a dreary wild; a desert un-ed with others, because satisfied with relieved by one spot of verdure; a thorn yourself. You will be delighted to find unadorned by one neglected flower-a that your talents had been under-rated; dull book such as this, makes me again in and that there are authors, with whom a humor with myself! comparison will turn to your advantage. Laughter, says Addison, is occasioned by the supposed inferiority, on the part of another, as compared with yourself. Could there be a better proof needed, that the dullest writer will make you as merry as the best jest-book? In short, whenever you would be pleased with your friends or yourself; whenever you would swell into importance, and fancy that you are somebody; whenever you would strut your hour with self-satisfaction, apply diligently to the study of a dull senseless author; it may be that you will leave him uninstructed, yet in possession of that happy humor, which, "though no science, is fairly worth the seven." On Death. A. Y. Z. In one of the volumes of the posthumous works of M. de Florian, a short account of his life is prefixed, and this contains part of a sermon of his composition. He was at that time one of the pages of the duke de Penthievre, and not fifteen years of age. The curate of St. Eustache was conversing with the duke about sermons, and young de Florian joining in the conversation, maintained that a sermon was not a matter of difficulty in composition, and that he thought himself capable of writing one, if it were required. "Death is every-where; it is in the titles the ambitious man seeks to obtain; it is in the treasures which the miser hoards; it is in the pleasures which the voluptuous man thinks he enjoys: death is the basis and end of every thing. Follow me in the world, contemplate with me all the world holds dear, and behold death every-where. "The miser who has spent his life in diminishing his wants, who has forgotten that God has only given him riches to relieve the poor, that miser at last has arrived at the pitch of smothering nature. The unfeeling habit of repulsing the unfortunate, has rendered him deaf to their complaints; he hears not the cries of the wretch who begs a bit of bread, that he may live another day; he sees not those starving children who struggle for the scanty morsels, moistened with the sweat of the brow of their father; he heeds not the misery of the young girl, who, pursued by misery and vice, begs his succor to preserve her innocence; nothing moves him, his ferocious heart is incapable of relenting. He carries to his hoard that treasure which he fancies was attempted to be extorted from him, and deposits it there, applauding his own barbarity; he does not even feel remorse. Suffering humanity cries not for him; but death alone has not lost his rights, it lies in wait in the place where he has hidden his riches. The barbarian is affected whilst counting his gold; the mere idea that he must one day, in spite of himself, leave it to greedy heirs, poisons all the pleasure he takes in accumulating; he views with sighs the vile metal which forms the destiny of his life; a few tears, for the first time, roll down his cheeks. As death only performs this miracle, so only death can make itself heard; death is placed in the midst of his treasures, and from thence cries to him-remember thou art dust!" Gothic and Grecian Architecture. Gothic architecture, for the gratification of the amateur, and for the advantage of the professional architect, I do not recollect to have met with one of which the express design is to draw, on philosophical principles, a parallel between the two styles; nor of their respective power of producing that extraordinary sensation in the mind, which is denominated the SUBLIME. The road is unbeaten, and I shall endeavor to pursue my journey without turning into those more intricate bye-paths, which are to be trodden by the professional architect, rather than the philosophical inquirer. It is not the propriety, gracefulness, or proportion of individual parts or ornaments, so much as the general effect of a building, as a whole, which falls under our consideration. A treatise upon the first might prove barren and uninteresting, even were I competent to the undertaking; upon the second, a familiar dissertation may at least be amusing. Before I proceed, I must remark, that the principles advanced by Burke in his admirable Treatise "upon the Sublime and Beautiful,” are the foundations of the superstructure I shall endeavor to raise; as far as I can discern they are solid and incontrovertible. We shall, then, regard that as beautiful upon which we look with pleasure, untinctured by awe, terror, or any feeling allied thereto; and we shall call that sublime which "is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or which operates in a manner analogous to terror, the Sublime being the strongest emotion which the mind is capable of feeling." The prince took him at his word, and offered to bet fifty louis d'ors that he did not succeed. The curate was to be umpire. De Florian set himself to work, and in a few days It may be supposed that, our minds having produced the fruits of his labor. What was received a prepossession in favor of that style the surprise of the duke and the curate, when of Architecture which was brought to such they heard the young lad recite a sermon on To almost every science it is objected, that great excellence by our forefathers, and of death, which might have stood the test of the the entrance is so difficult, and the road, at set- which the proudest and purest monuments are press! The prince acknowledged he had lost ting out, so thorny; that the labor is so pain- to be found in our own country, we cannot his wager, and directly paid the money, sayful, and the pleasure or profit arising from it enter upon this inquiry with sufficient disintering he had great pleasure in losing it. The so small, as to discourage the student, to re-estedness and impartiality. If I should be curate carried off his sermon, and preached it press his ardor, and sometimes absolutely to able to make it appear, that with respect to the in his parish church. Here follows all that has prevent his progress. The hidden treasure is association of ideas, caused upon beholding a been found of this performance among his to be sought with unwearied diligence, and master-piece of Gothic or Grecian Architecture, manuscripts; if the age and situation of the perhaps, at last, may not be worth the labor neither can claim much precedence; that both writer be considered, they are precious memo- employed in obtaining it. But this objection are in this respect of equal worth; that the rials of his talents. He died in 1795, not does not apply to the study of architecture. antiquity of a building alone, is a sufficient having attained the age of forty. The first step the pupil takes is on enchanted cause of the Sublime in a very great degree, ground; neither is the journey irksome, the independent of any merits in its Architecture; pursuit accompanied by toil, or the study then this objection falls to the ground. wearisome. The knowledge gained far out- There is, perhaps, no spot upon earth, more weighs the means and time bestowed in the favorable to the production of sublime ideas, acquisition of it ;-no racking of the brain, no in the mind of an Englishman, than one of deep and logical reasoning is here required.— our cathedrals: upon entering these sacred The study of architecture promises little and edifices, consecrated by superstition, piety, performs much we gaze upon a well-propor- and antiquity; the coldest heart is overwhelmtioned arch perhaps without any further designed with a torrent of enthusiasm, mingled with than to occupy the passing moment agreeably. reverential awe: we invariably call to mind We are insensibly led to search after the men the men whose piety has been directed to the whose talents were employed in constructing erection or ornamenting of the pile; we reit; we pace the aisles of a cathedral, and long trace the history of our country from the period to become acquainted with the history of its when it lay shrouded in the gloomy mantle of founder. The tombs of the prelates who slum- superstition, to her present state of grandeur: her around, excite us to inquire after their we are lost in wonder, at the greatness of the deeds; we desire to know something more of design and the beauty of the execution, and the history of our forefathers, and thus we are are astonished at the skill and perseverance, led to ages long since and for ever fled; and at the force of intellect, and the greatness of we become deeply interested in, and well ac- the talents of those who raised so magnificent quainted with, the civil and ecclesiastical his- a monument; and still more, at the greatness tory of our country. of the contrast between the savage wildness of the age, and the harmony and grandeur of its designs-that while the common people were yet sunk in the lowest state of vassalage, of (To be continued.) The grandee of the earth, who, proud of his high birth, and of his dignities, believes himself kneaded of more noble clay than I am; that grandee to whom we pay the price of what his ancestors have done, and who dares to look on our homage as a tribute he imposed on us at his birth, that grandee owes every thing to death; he is its work; he holds from it alone all which constitutes his false glory. Let him produce the titles which elevate him above his equals; every one of those titles is a gift of death. His nobility! this is founded on a heap of corpses; as the heap increases the more illustrious it becomes; a load of dust is the throne of the nobility of which he is so proud, and shortly he will himself become a step of that funeral throne. His dignities! to whom does he owe them? To death, who has In a pursuit at once so amusing and so in structive, many have engaged; but of the numerous and valuable works which have been compiled on the subject of Grecian and POETRY. The Star of Hope. Shine on thou bright beacon, From thy high place of calmness, Its morning of promise, Then, bright one, shine on. The wings of the tempest From the deep womb of darkness The holy vow And ring of gold, no fond illusions now, ROGERS. The Inch Cape Rock. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, But now the bell and the raft were seen The sea-gull screamed as she flitted round, Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound, The bursting bubbles gathered round. Quoth Sir Ralph, "the next that comes to the rock, Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away, He harry'd the seas for many a day, The wind had blown a gale all day, Towards evening it had died away. So thick was the mist on the ocean green, Nor shore nor headland could be seen. On deck the Rover takes his stand, "The weather so dark we can spy no land." Quoth another, "It will be lighter soon, Quoth another, "dost thou hear the breakers roar? But where we are I cannot tell Would that we heard the Inch Cape bell!" The vessel swiftly drifts along; At once she strikes with a dreadful shock, Oh horror! she strikes on the Inch Cape rock. Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, And cursed himself in his deep despair. One only sound could the Rover hear, A sound as if with the Inch Cape bell, The Chelsea Pensioner. The stealing hand of slowly creeping time Oh! could these limbs their wonted strength regain, Why should I linger here, to grief a prey, Alike from honor, as from danger far, Why should I linger when my race is done, Yet let me not repine,-if right I ween, The welcome step of clay cold death is near; Soon will his friendly hand close my sad scene, Hush every sigh, and wipe each talling tear. Stranger, whoe'er thou art, whose steps may stray These gloomy walls and antique towers among, Where at the eve of their declining day, In peace repose the gallant war-worn throng. If virtue o'er thy breast exert her sway, Female Lobeliness. I've seen the morning's ruby ray Retiring seek the western wood. I've seen the modest queen of night I've seen the night-star's beam imprest I've seen the damask violet's hue, And sending richest odors forth. I've seen the linnet's tender flush, I've often in my loved resort I've listen'd to the sea-wave's song, I've felt the zephyr's balm diffuse, Yet not the ocean's solemn song Nor vessel's pride-nor vernal balmsAre sweet as tender woman's tongue, Her honied breath and cherub-charms. At the close of the day, from my study I strayed, The image of Hesperus glowed in the deep, The sky was unclouded, the sea all serene, Inclosed in his mansion, the wind was asleep, 5 Nor a voice broke the silence which sweetened the scene. A cloud obliviscent stole over my soul, And hid from its view all the subjects of earth; Devotion and fancy alone held control, O that was a moment of infinite worth! And would from my heart that it never had passed,- On the breast of the water, with pennant low hung, My heart was still tinged with solemnity's hue, And like as the waters that vessel has crossed, Religion.- Sonnet. J. From the lone watch-tower by the howling deep, And haply proves the wandering seaman's guide; |