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a great and a good man, gave dress those who had not found room him this excellent advice“ If you within. “ This," he says, “put me desire to be extensively useful, do not first upon thinking of preaching with spend your time and strength in cons out doors.” Soon after he went to tending for or against such things as Bristol, and actually put this scheme are of a disputable nature, but in tes in practice at a coalliery in the neightifying against open and notorious bourhood of that city, named Kings, vice, and in promoting real essential wood. On the 17th of February 1739, holiness.” But at this time the fever he stood there on a mount called Rose of enthusiasm made him reject this Green, and preached to as many as wise counsel, and exclaim, “God de came to hear him. He had some disliver me from what the world calls putation about this novelty with the Christian prudence."
chancellor of the diocese, but he still Towards the end of the year White- proceeded in his own way, regardless field returned from Georgia to receive of authority, He had not Wesley's priest's orders, and to raise contribu- ambition, but he had a great longing tions for founaing and supporting an to be persecuted, and seems rather to orphan-house in the colony. He was have been disappointed, that, notwithordained by Bishop Benson, who had standing his provocation of persons in laid hands on him as a deacon. But power, suffering was so tardily and so the business of raising money was not sparingly awarded to him. He now so soon accomplished, and detained addressed himself to congregations uphim long enough in England to take wards of 20,000 in number. The those measures which, in their conse- open firmament above me,' says he, quences, led step by step to the sepa- o the prospect of the adjacent fields, ration of the Methodists from the with the sight of thousands and thou. Church of England, and their organi- sands, some in coaches, some on horsezation as a sect. A large room in back, and some in the trees, and at Fetter-Lane had hitherto been the times all affected and drenched in central place of meeting. Here they tears together, to which sometimes kept their love feasts, at which they was added the solemnity of the apate bread and water, and sung and proaching evening, was almost too prayed.
much for, and quite overcame me.” « On the first night of the new year,” at Bristol, the Wesleys were preach
While these things were transacting says Wesley, “ Mr Hall, Kenchin, Ingham, Whitefield, Hutchins, and my brother ing with equal success in London. A Charles, were present at our love feast, with convulsive and an infectious disease, about sixty of our brethren.' About three
“ believed to be part of the process of in the morning, as we were continuing in. regeneration,” had begun to manifest stant in prayer, the power of God came itself among their adherents. The mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried convulsive motions, and frantic cries out for exceeding joy, and many fell to of the patients, were offensive at first. the ground. As soon as we were recover. Charles Wesley, thought them ed a little from that awe and amazement sign of grace."
The whole party, at the presence of his Majesty, we broke however, soon agreed that they indiout with one voice, We praise thee, o God; cated the crisis of the new birth; we acknowledge thee to be the Lord.”
they became very common, and a * 1" It was a Penticost season,” says large part of Wesley's Journal is taken Whitefield;"sometimes whole nights up with details of the more extraordiwere spent in prayer." This conduct nary cases. gave offence to the clergy, and they In compliance with the earnest sobegan generally to refuse their pulpits licitation of Whitefield, Wesley went to preachers who seemed to take a to Bristol, where the foundations of pride in setting prudence at defiance. Methodism, as a distinct sect, were This would have led to field preach- now laid by the practice of fielding, but it began from a different ne- preaching. " I could scarce reconcile cessity. Whitefield was preaching in myself,” says Wesley, at first to Bermondsy Church, but more than this strange way, having been all my a thousand could find no admittance; life, till very lately, so tenacious of so when he had finished the service every point relating to decency and "in the church, he felt a strong desire order, that I should have thought the to mount on the tomb-stones and ads saving of souls, almost a sin if it had
not been done in a church."
The together weekly to confess their faults disease which Methodism excited had one to another, and pray one for annot appeared at Bristol under White- other. In May 1739, the first stone field; but it became frequent after of a preaching
house was also laid in Wesley arrived there. One, and that city,“ with the voice of praise another, and another, sunk to the and thanksgiving."
The property earth; they dropt on every side as was at first settled on eleven feoffees; thunderstruck.” There was a man but when it was represented to Wesnamed John Haydon, who laboured ley that they would always have the to convince the people, that the fits sole power over the building, being into which so many of Wesley's au- alive to the evils of congregational tyditors fell were the effects of a delu- ranny, he called the feoffees together, sion of the devil. He is said also to cancelled the writings, and took the have been zealous for the church, and trust, as well as the management, in- . against dissenters of every denomina- to his own hands. These measures, tion. This man chose one day to though adopted without any prospect finish a sermon on salvation by faith, of separating from the Church, were, which he had borrowed, before he be- step by step, leading to that event. gan to eat, after he had sitten down Having spent three months in Bristol, to dinner. In reading the last page, he took leave for a while of his growhe changed colour-fell off his chair ing congregation there, saying that he beat himself against the ground—and had not
found such love,“ no, not in screamed so terribly, that the neigh- England.". bours were alarmed and ran into the
(To be continued.) house. Wesley was informed that the man was fallen raving mad: He found him on the floor. 56 Aye,'” he exclaimed, " this is he who I said was a deceiver of the people! But God has overtaken me.-I said it was all a delusion; but this is no delu- (From Sismondi's Litterature du Midi.) sion! He then roared out, ) thou devil, thou cursed devil, yea, thou Vincenzo Monti, a native of legion of devils ! thou canst not stay! Ferrara, is acknowledged, by the unaChrist will cast thee out: I know nimous consent of the Italians, as the his work is begun! Tear me to pieces greatest of their living Poete. Irritaif thou wilt ; but thou canst not hurt ble, impassioned, variable to excess, me.' He then beat himself against the he is always actuated by the impulse ground again, his breast heaving, at of the moment. Whatever he feels is the same time, as in the pangs of death, felt with the most enthusiastic veheand great drops of sweat trickling from mence. He sees the objects of his his face. We all betook ourselves to thoughts, they are present and clothed prayer. His pangs ceased, and both with life before him, and a flexible his soul and body were set at liberty." and harmonious language is always at. The next day Wesley found him with his command, to paint them with the his voice gone, and his body weak richest colouring: Persuaded that as an infant's, “ but his soul was at poetry is only another species of paintpeace, full of love and rejoicing, in ing, he makes the art of the poet conhope of the glory of God.” This may sist in rendering apparent to the eyes serve as a specimen of those“ spirit of all, the pictures created by his imaual struggles," as they were called. gination for himself, and he permits Some of them were even more violent; not a verse to escape him which does but all the patients in a moment were not contain an image. Deeply imfilled with peace, and love, and joy. pressed by the study of Dante, he has They received “the plerophory of, restored to the character of Italian faith.”
poetry those severe and exalted beauOn Wesley's arrival in Bristol, that ties by which it was distinguished at part of the Methodist discipline was its birth ; and he proceeds from one introduced which he had adopted picture to another with a grandeur and from the Moravians, and male and dignity peculiar to himself. It is exfemale bands were formed as in Lon- traordinary, that, with something so don, that the members might meet lofty in his manner and style of write
ing, the heart of so impassioned a cha- condemned, by Divine Justice, to traracter should not be regulated by verse France, until the crimes of that principles of greater consistency. In country have received their due chasmany other poets this defect might tisement, and doomed to contemplate pass unobserved ; but circumstances the misfortunes and reverses to which have thrown the fullest light upon the he has contributed, by assisting to exversatility of Monti, and his glory, as tend the progress of the Revolution. a poet, is attached to works which dis- An angel of Heaven conducts Bas-. play him in continual opposition to ville from province to province, that himself. Writing in the midst of the he may behold the desolation of his various . Italian revolutions, he has lovely country; he then conveys him constantly chosen political subjects to Paris, and makes him witness the for his compositions, and he has suc- sufferings and death of Louis XVI. cessively celebrated opposite parties, and afterwards shows him the uniin proportion to their success. Let ted armies prepared to burst upon us suppose, in his justification, that he France, and avenge the blood of her composes as an improvisatore, and that, king. The poem concludes before his feelings, becoming highly excited the issue of the contest is known. by the given theme, he seizes the po- It is divided into four cantos of three litical ideas it suggests, however fo- hundred lines each, and written in reign they may be to his individual terza rima, like the poem of Dahte. sentiments. * In these political poems, Not only many expressions, epithets, the object and purport of which are and lines, are borrowed from the Dia so different, the invention and manner vine Comedy, but the invention itself are, perhaps, but too similar. The is similar. An angel conducts BasBasvigliana, or Poem on the Death of ville through the suffering world, and Basville, is the most celebrated ; but, this faithful guide, who consoles and since its appearance, it has been dis- supports the spectator-hero of the covered that Monti, who always imic poem, acts precisely the same part tated Dante, has now also very fre- which is performed by Virgil in Danquently imitated himself.
Basville himself thinks, feels, Hugh Basville was the French En- and suffers, exactly as Dante would voy, who was put to death at Rome have done. Monti has not preserved by the people, for attempting, at the any traces of his revolutionary chabeginning of the Revolution, to excite racter; he describes him as feeling a sedition against the Pontifical go- more pity than remorse, and he seems vernment. Monti, who was then the to forget, in thus identifying himself poet of the Pope, as he has since been with his hero, that he has at first reof the Republic, supposes, that, at the presented Basville, and perhaps withmoment of Basville's death, he is sav. out foundation, as an infidel, and a ed, by a sudden repentance, from the ferocious revolutionist. The Basvige condemnation which his philosophical liana is perhaps more remarkable than principles had merited. But, as a pu- any other poem for the majesty of its nishment for his guilt, and a substi- verse, the sublimity of its expression, tute for the pains of Purgatory, he is and the richness of its colouring. In
the first Cauto, the spirit of Basville
- thus takes leave of the body. • The observation of a French author Sleep, O'belov'd companion of my woes, (le Censeur du Dictionnaire des Girouettes) Rest thou in deep and undisturb'd repose, on the general versatility of poets, seems Till, at the last great day, from slumber's so peculiarly appropriate to the character
bed, of Monti, that it might almost be supposed Heaven's trumpet-summons shall awake to have been written for the express pur. the dead! pose of such an application—" Le cerveau d'un poète est d'one cire molle et flexible, Be the earth light upon thee! mild the où s'imprime naturellement tout ce qui le
shower, flatte, le séduit, et l'alimente. La muse du And soft the breeze's wing, till that dread chant n'a pas de parti ; c'est une étourdie
Nor let the wanderer, passing o'er thee, sans consequence qui folâtre également et
breathe sur de riches gazons et sur d'arides bruyères. Un poète en délire chante indiffer. Words of keen insult to the dust beneath. emment Titus et Thamasp, Louis 12me, Sleep thou in peace ! beyond the funeral et Cromwell, Christine de Swède, et Fan- pyre, chon la Vielleuse."
There live no flames of vengeance or of ire,
And ’midst high hearts I leave thee, on a
That broke the stillness was a streamlet's shore,
moan, Where mercy's home hath been, from days Murmuring amidst the rocks with plain
As if a storm, within the woodland bowers, Thus, to its earthly form, the spirit cried,
Were gathering. On they mov'd, and lo! Then turned to follow its celestial guide,
the towers But with a downcast mien, a pensive sigh, Of a far city! nearer now they drew, A lingering step, and oft reverted eye,
And all reveal'd, expanding on their view, As when a child's reluctant feet obey
The Babylon, the scene of crimes and Its mother's voice, and slowly leave its play.
woes, Night o'er the earth her dewy veil had cast, Paris, the guilty, the devoted, rose. When from th’ eternal city's towers they
And, rising in their fight, on that proud in the dark mantle of a cloud array'd, dome,
Viewless and hush'd, the angel and the Whose walls enshrine the guardian saint of shade Rome,
Enter'd that evil city. Onward passed Lo! where a cherub-form sublimely The heavenly being first, with brow o'ertower'd,
cast, But dreadful in his glory! sternly lower'd And troubled mien, while in his glorious Wrath in his kingly aspect: One he seem'd
eyes, Of the bright seven, whose dazzling splen- Tears had obscur’d the splendour of the dour beam'd
skies. On high amidst the burning lamps of hea. Pale with dismay, the trembling spirit saw ven,
That alter'd aspect, and, in breathless awe, Seen in the dread, o'erwhelming visions Mark'd the strange silence round. The given
deep-ton'd swell To the rapt seer of Patmos. Wheels of Of life's full tide was hush'd ; the sacred fire
bell, Seem'd his fierce eyes, all kindling in their The clamorous anvil, mute: all sounds ire,
were fled And his loose tresses, floating as he stood, Of labour or of mirth, and in their stead, A comet's glare, presaging woe and blood. Terror and stillness ! boding signs of woe, He wav'd his sword; its red, terrific light, Inquiring glances, rumours whisper'd low, With fearful radiance ting'd the clouds of Questions half utter'd, jealous looks, that night,
keep While his left hand sustain'd a shield, so
A fearful watch around ; and sadness deep
That weighs upon the heart; and voices, vast,
heard Far o'er the Vatican beneath was cast Its broad, protecting shadow. As the at intervals, in many a broken word ;
Voices of mothers, trembling as they plume Of the strong eagle spreads, in sheltering Th’ unconscious infant closer to their
press'd gloom O'er its young brood, as yet untaught to
breast; Voices of wives, with fond, imploring
cries, And while, all trembling at the whirlwind's roar,
And the wild eloquence of tears and sighs, Each humbler bird shrinks cowering in Their fierce, impatient lords ; but weak
On their own thresholds striving to detain its nest,
and vain Beneath that wing of power, and ample Affection's gentle bonds, in that dread hour breast,
Of fate and fury, Love hath lost his power! They sleep unheeding ; while the storm on high
For evil spirits are abroad! the air Breaks not their calm and proud security.
Breathes of their influence; druid phan
toms there In the second Canto, Basville enters Fir'd by that thirst for victims, which of Paris with his angelic guide, at the
old moment preceding the execution of Rag'd in their bosoms, fierce and unconLouis XVI.
Rush, in ferocious transport, to survey The air was heavy, and the brooding skies. The deepest crime that ere hath dimm'd Look'd fraught with omens, as to harmo
the day. nize
Blood, human blood, hath staind their With his pale aspect. Through the forest vests and hair, round
On the winds tossing, with a sanguine Not a leaf whisper'd, and the only sound
LATE DR JOHN LEYDEN.
Scattering red showers around them! Like him, who, breathing mercy till the flaming brands,
last, And serpent-scourses, in their restless Pray'd till the bitterness of death was past : hands
E'en for his murderers, pray'd, in that Are wildly shaken ; others lift on high
dark hour, The steel, th' envenom'd bowl, and hur- When his soul yielded to affliction's power, rying by,
And the winds bore his dying cry abroad, With touch of fire, contagious fury dart * Hast thou forsaken me, my God, my Through human veins, fast kindling to the God ?” heart.
E'en thus the monarch stood ; his pray'r Then comes the rush of crowds ! restrain'd
arose, no more,
Thus calling down forgiveness on his foes, Fast from each home the frenzied inmates 6 To thee my spirit I commend," he pour;
cried, From every heart, affrighted mercy flies, « And my lost people, Father ! be their While her soft voice amidst the tumult dies. guide !” Then the earth trembles, as from street to
But the sharp steel descends; the blow is The tramp of steeds, the press of hastening
given, feet, The roll of wheels, all mingling in the And answered by a thunder-peal from
Earth, stain'd with blood, convulsive terCome deepening onward, as the swell of seas,
ror owns, Heard at the dead of midnight ; or the And her kings tremble on their distant
thrones. Of distant tempests, or the hollow tone Of the far thunder!-then what feelings
(To be continued.) press'd, O wretched Basville ! on thy guilty breast ! What pangs were thine, thus fated to be
REMARKS ON THE POETRY OF THE
It seems an act of equal necessity good,
to do justice to the dead as to the liva Thy martyr king, ky men athirst for blood, ing; nay, there is a disposition in hu. Dragg’d to a felon's death! yet still his man nature to do even fuller justice mien
to the merits of the dead than to the 'Midst that wild throng, is loftily serene, merits of the living. Our contempoAnd his step falters not hearts un- raries are incident to the same pas mov'd !
sions, and are incited by the same Where have ye borne your monarch ?-He ambitious motives as ourselves; there
who lov'd, Lov'd you so well !-Behold! the sun
must, of consequence, be rivalry, and
where there is rivalry, there is very grows pale, Shrouding his glory in a tearful veil, apt to be jarring and envy. But when The misty air is silent, as in dread,
the grave is closed over a man-when And the dim sky with shadowy gloom o'er. he is confined to that dark and cheerspread,
less mansion, his character is looked While saints and martyrs, spirits of the upon with
brighter parts become brighter-its Look down all weeping, from their bowers blemishes are hidden in the shade of of rest.
death; and his writings, if he has
been an author, are received with pea In that dread moment, to the fatal pile, culiar respect and awe, as the lanThe regal victim came; and rais’d, the guage of an inhabitant of another while,
world. His patient glance, with such an aspect
I was led into these reflections by high,
reading the “ Poetical Remains of the So firm, so calm, in holy majesty,
late Dr J. Leyden :' a work which That e'en th' assassins' hearts a moment shook,
possesses much merit-which I have Before the grandeur of that kingly look,
seen noticed in few periodical jourAnd a strange thrill of pity, half renew'd, nals, but which, as a countryman of Ran thro’ the bosoms of the multitude. Leyden's, I feel an anxiety-a kind
of duty, to introduce to such of your