When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent, which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, lest he returning chide;
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask: But Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's works or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state

Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."

And how nobly does a strong heart and an unbroken mind speak in the thrilling language with which he addresses a friend upon the same subject.

Syriac, this three years day these eyes, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot,

Bereft of light their seeing have forgot,
Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,
Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer

Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?

The Conscience, Friend, t' have lost them overplied

In liberty's defence, my noble task,

Of which all Europe talks, from side to side:

This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask,
Content though blind, had I no better guide.

It is impossible to read such productions without becoming wiser and better: for they encourage our nobler faculties; they cherish our more exalted purposes; they raise our spirits and warm our hearts; they cheer us on the rough road of duty, and we go forward on the business of life under the promptings of purer and more generous emotions. You read the writings of Milton and some of his compeers, and you feel that you have been in the presence of great men and if the majesty of their genius awes you, it also comforts you with grander ideas of the capacity of the human intellect; it inspires you to loftier and more strenuous effort for your own cultivation, and the improvement of others. On the contrary, many of the trifling productions which are such modern favourites, seem to us to have been written with the direct purpose of debasing

our nature. It is not likely, that this is generally the case; but so much the more melancholy is the reflection, if they are written to commend themselves to a depraved taste already formed and open for their reception. At any rate, they are calculated to throw a veil over the brightness of our moral perceptions, and to confound in our minds the eternal distinctions of virtue and vice. They rob us of the prouder hopes of life, and chain us down to the sordid and selfish maxims of the world.

The true purpose of imagination is of a higher nature, we believe, than is generally apprehended. It is not simply to amuse an idle hour, still less to minister to a depraved taste, that she spreads her starry wings, and compasses the broad and teeming earth, and the illimitable amplitude of Heaven. Her storehouse is a treasury of uncounted gems, -pearl and opal, diamond and gold. As the liberal elements dispense their bounty, so she diffuses her golden gifts. There is no age, or climate, or condition of men, in which she has not given to glory its chiefest honour, and its sweetest magic to beauty. It was by her aid that the early Chaldean looked into the blue depths of upper air, and drew thence the mystic theories of his ancient wisdom; and upon her pinions was wafted the soul of

"That blind old man of Scio's rocky isle,"

whose stirring songs yet echo upon the sanguine plain and around the battlements of old Troy. Upon the mountain tops she hath her dwelling, and in every green field! The deep echoes of primeval forests are filled with her language, and Ocean as it swells and thunders, answers to her voice. Sometimes she may be found reposing in the calm loveliness of a summer landscape; and sometimes she builds her pavilion upon the tumultuous current of the storm! Other things are partial and limited in their character and operation; but her empire is unbounded as the universe. There is no human being so cold and dull, in whose feelings and affections she has not some share. The savage in his desert, and the philosopher in his closet, are equally within the sphere of her controul. She is powerful to melt, to persuade and to teach. It is her office to elevate, to refine, and to humanize the mind: and whether she wanders amidst the enchantments of Arabia, or clothes the rugged hills of Scotland

with glory and delight,—her influence is acknowledged, and her dominion allowed.

It is the well known remark of a great English statesman, that if he might write the popular songs, he cared not who made the laws of the nation. The observation is manifestly founded upon a just appreciation of human character, and is but a commentary upon the conduct of Lycurgus, who introduced the poems of Homer into Greece, at the same time that he was reforming the legislation of Sparta. How often has the stirring lay aided the patriot in the achievement of his triumphs! How often has the hero's heart throbbed with higher energies as he listened to the thrilling numbers of the Muse's lyre! History is full of the triumphs of song; and a touching incident of this nature is related in Plutarch's life of Nicias, where he tells us, that after a battle unfortunate for the Athenians, their Sicilian conquerors freely released their captives, and showered upon them benefits seldom bestowed upon the vanquished, in reward for the recitation of a few verses of Euripides; and which is the same story so beautifully alluded to by a poet of our own times:

When Athens' armies fell at Syracuse,
And fettered thousands bore the yoke of war,
Redemption rose up in the Attic muse,
Her voice their only ransom from afar:
See! as they chant the tragic hymn, the car

Of the o'ermastered victor stops, the reins

Fall from his hands-his idle scimetar

Starts from its belt-he rends his captive's chains

And bids him thank the bard for freedom and his strains.

If then works of imagination exert a more powerful and constant influence upon the popular mind than graver treatises, how necessary it is that they should be founded upon the truest models, and be dedicated to the best purposes. It is in vain to attempt to subdue the outpourings of imagination; nor can it be in any way desirable. Other thoughts may be necessary, but her promptings are a delight. It is her proper business to make goodness attractive, and to scatter flowers over the rugged paths of duty. It is hers to cheer what misfortune depresses, and to gild the clouds of life with a halo of glory. It is surely the interest of society to see to her proper cultivation; and she well knows how to repay its care a thousand fold. When she is negVOL. IV.

21

lected, she becomes, of necessity, depraved, and society feels the debasement in an infinite variety of ways: when her honour is secured, she calls around her the glories which have illuminated her past existence and thus she gives a fresh charm to virtue, and throws a newer lustre upon happiness.

Above all, let not him who is conscious of a just and noble purpose fear what some have strangely said, that the day of poetry has gone by, and that he will want readers. For this indeed can never be, while there is any thing in the condition of nature or of life, to impress us more deeply than the ordinary current of existence. It can never be, while a hue of melancholy shadows any spirit, or a spring of joy gushes in any heart. It would contradict the very constitution of human nature itself. The sailor thrills upon the bounding sea; the student revels in the luxury of solitary thought; the husbandman gladdens in the freshness of spring. And all these are poetical; and the daybreak scattering the silence of darkness; the descending splendours of evening; the gray twilight; the array of night; hill and valley, stream and forest, flower and ocean; whatever is noble in the history of mind; whatever is lovely and affecting in the story of life. To say that the day of poetry is gone by, were indeed to say, what none of us would willingly believe: for it would be to say, that the world has grown old and imbecile, that its veins are chilled, and its end is nigh;-that the enchantments of youth are vanished;

that the glory of manhood is a shadow ;-that his better hopes are but folly, and the purposes of existence only degrading. It were to say that the freshness has passed from the leaf, and the sunbeam from the canopy of heaven: that life indeed is worthless, and creation a blank !

And so, indeed, from day to day, and from year to year, pass on and perish the vanities of the world; so pass its idle fashions and its heartless follies; and sorrowing not for them, we might say without regret,

"Pass on, relentless world!"

But so passeth not whatever is truly valuable and excellent. So can never pass those loftier aspirations, which are conceived in the purity of a good heart, and are devoted to the exalted purpose of advancing and ennobling the human

character. So can never pass the glory of intellectual achievements, which, like Milton's, have caught their inspiration from a divine fountain, and whose hopes of endurance are built upon a foundation which is higher than the stars! No generous impulse, no lofty action, no ardent and virtuous aspiration of one who sincerely devotes himself to the advancement and elevation of his kind, shall ever perish :his fervent enthusiasm, his noble enterprises, his magnificent thoughts, his pure life, his charity to man, and his high trust in God, will be recorded for eternity, where the fashions of the world have neither part nor lot.

ART. III. ARE PEDOBAPTIST CHURCHES IN

MEMBERS
TISM?

RECEIVING

WARRANTED TO DISPENSE WITH INFANT BAP

By REV. DANIel Dana, D. D.

A QUESTION has been recently agitated in many of the New England churches, which has occasioned considerable difference in opinion; and, in some cases, a correspondent difference in practice. These varieties in views and measures are probably increasing; and if we judge from the aspects and spirit of the age, are likely still further to increase. To the question in view, we propose to give a brief discussion. Reduced to a definite form, it may stand as follows

Is it consistent with the Bible, to admit to Pedobaptist churches, persons who give credible evidence of piety, but who do not believe that God requires them to offer their children in baptism?

We enter on this discussion by remarking that, in the present case, as in other cases of difficulty or doubt, a correct decision is to be sought in a recurrence to great and acknowledged principles.

Most practical questions, whether they regard the duties of individual Christians or of churches, are easily settled.