beauty of holiness. Ho has connected these meek and lowly flowers with an image, which none (nŭn) of the poets of this world have ever thought of.

5. To him the divine beauty of holiness "made the soul like a field or garden of God, with all manner of pleasant flowers; all pleasant, delightful, and undisturbed; enjoying a sweet calm, and the gentle, vivifying beams of the sun. The soul of a true Christian appears like such a little white flower as we see in the spring of the year; low and humble on the ground; opening its bosom to receive the pleasant beams of the sun's glōry; rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rapture; diffusing around a sweet fragrancy; standing peacefully and lovingly in the midst of other flowers round about; all in like manner opening their bosoms to drink in the light of the sun."

6. Věry likely such a passage as this, coming from the soul of the great theologian (for this is the poëtry of the soul, and not of the artificial sentiment, nor of the mere worship of nature), will seem to many persons like viölets in the bosom of a glac'iër. But no poet ever described the meek, modest flowers so beautifully, rejoicing in a calm rapture. Jonathan Edwards himself, with his grand views of sacred theology and history, his living piety, and his great experience in the deep things of God, was like a mountain glacier, in one respect, as the "par'ent of perpetual streams," that are then the deepèst, when all the fountains of the world are the driest; like, also, in another respect, that in climbing his theology you get very near to heaven, and are in a very pure and bracing atmosphere; like, again, in this, that it requires much spiritual labor and discipline to surmount his heights, and some care not to fall into the crevăss'es; and like, once more, in this, that when you get to the top, you have a vast,1 wide, glōrious view of God's great plan, and see things in their chains and connections, which before you only saw separate and piecemeal.

CHEEVER.

GEORGE B. CHEEVER was born at Hallowell, Maine, on the 17th of April, 1807. He was graduated at Bowdoin College, September, 1825, studied theology at Andover, was licensed to preach in 1830, and was first settled as pastor over Howard Street church of Salem, Massachusetts. He went to Europe in 1836,

teenth year. He preached in Northampton twenty-three years: was missionary to the Indians near Stockbridge, Mass., for six years; was in

stalled president of Princeton College in January, 1758; and died on the 22d of March of the same year.

1 Vast, (våst), see Note 3, p. 22.

where he spent two years and six months. In 1839 he became pastor of the Allen Street church, New York, and in 1846 of the Church of the Puritans, a position which he still retains. In 1844 he again visited Europe for a year. Dr. Cheever is celebrated as a logician. He has a keen analytical mind, and combining fancy with logic, succeeds equally well in allegory and in argumentation. liis numerous and valuable works have gained him an enviable position in American literature. He has written extensively for our ablest reviews and periodicals. He was a valuable correspondent of the "New York Observer," when in Europe, and editor of the "New York Evangelist" during 1845 and 1846. He is now a contributor of "The Independent." His "Lectures on Pilgrim's Progress," published in 1843, and "Voices of Nature," 1852, are among the ablest of his productions, and indicate most truly his mode and range of thought. "Wanderings of a Pilgrim in the Shadow of Mont Blanc and the Yungfrau Alp," from which the above extract is taken, published in 1846, on his return from his second visit to Europe, met with a very favorable reception. As a writer he is always clear and unimpassioned; he sees and hears and describes, never falling, through excess of feeling, into confusion, or figure, or redundancy of expression. The reader is strengthened by his power, calmed by his tranquillity, and incited to self-denying and lofty views, by his earnest and vigorous presentation of truth.

A

VII.

150. ALPINE SCENERY.

BOVE me are the Alps-most glorious Alps-
The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls.
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,
And throned Eternity in icy halls

Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls
The avalanche-the thunderbolt of snow!
All that expands the spirit, yet appalls,
Găther around these summits, as to show
How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below.
2. Lake Lēman' woos me with its crystal face,-

The mirror, where the stars and mountains view
The stillness of their aspect in each trace

Its clear depth yields of their far height and hue.
There is too much of man here, to look through,
With a fit mind, the might which I behold;

But soon in me shall loneliness renew

1Le' man or Geneva, a crescentshaped lake of Europe, between Switzerland and the Sardinian States. Length, forty-five miles; breadth, from one to nine and a half miles; and greatest depth, nine hundred and

eighty-four feet. Its waters, which are never entirely frozen over, have a peculiar deep-blue color, are very transparent, and contain a great variety of fish. Steam navigation was introduced in 1828.

Thoughts hid, but not less cherished than of old, Ere mingling with the herd that penned me in their fold. 3. Clear, plăcid Leman! thy contrasted lake

With the wide world I've dwelt in is a thing
Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring.
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing

To waft me from distraction; once I loved
Torn ocean's roar; but thy soft murmuring
Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved,
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved
4. It is the hush of night; and all between

Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear,
Mellowed and mingling, yet distinctly seen,

Save darkened Jura,' whose capped heights appear
Precipitously steep; and drawing near,

There breathes a living fragrance from the shōre,
Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear
Drops the light drip of the suspended oar,
Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol mōre.
5. He is an evening reveler, who makes

His life an infancy, and sings his fill;

At intervals, some bird from out the brakes
Starts into voice a moment, then is still.
There seems a floating whisper on the hill ;-
But that is fancy; for the starlight dews
All silently their tears of love distill,
Weeping themselves away till they infuse
Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
6. Ye stars! which are the poëtry of heaven,
If, in your bright leaves, we would read the fate
Of men and empires,-'tis to be forgiven,
That in our aspirations to be great,

Our destinies ō'erleap their mortal state,

'Jura, (jo'ra), a chain of mountains which separates France from Switzerland, extending for one hundred and eighty miles in the form of a curve, from S. to N. E., with a mean

breadth of thirty miles. One of the culminating points, and the highest, is Mount Molesson six thousand five hundred and eighty-eight feet above the level of the sea.

And claim a kindred with you; for ye are

A beauty and a mystery, and creäte

In us such love and reverence from afar,

That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
7. All heaven and earth are still,-though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling mōst;
And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep :—
All heaven and earth are still! From the high host
Of stars to the lulled lake, and mountain coast,
All is concentered in a life intense,

Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost,
But hath a part of being, and a sense

Of that which is of all Creator and Defense.

8. The sky is changed! and such a change! O Night, And Storm, and Darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as the light

Of a dark eye in woman! Far along,

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder!-not from one lōne cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue;
And Jura answers, through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
9. And this is in the night.-Most glorious night!'

Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight,-
A portion of the tempest and of thee!
How the lit lake shines,-a phosphoric sea-
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth!

And now again 'tis black-and now, the glee
Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain mirth,
As if they did rejoice ō'er a young earthquake's birth.
10. Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings! ye,
With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul
To make these felt and feeling, well may be
Things that have made me watchful :-the far roll
Of your departing voices is the knoll

Of what in me is sleepless,-if I rest.

But where, of ye, O tempests! is the goal?
Are
ye like those within the human breast?

Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest?

11. The morn is up again, the dewy morn,

With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom,
Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn,
And living as if earth contained no tomb,-
And glowing into day: we may resume
The march of our existence; and thus I,

Still on thy shōres, fair Lēman! may find room
And food for meditation, nor pass by

Much, that may give us pause, if pondered fittingly.

LORD BYRON.

SECTION XXVIII.

I.

151. SELECT PASSAGES IN VERSE.

I. EARLY DAWN.-SHELLEY.

HE point of one white star is quivering still
Deep in the orange light of widening morn,
Beyond the purple mountains: through a chasm
Of wind-divided mist the darker lake

Reflects it. Now it wanes: it gleams again
As the waves fade, and as the burning threads
Of woven cloud unravel in pale air :

"Tis lost! and through yon peaks of cloud-like snow

The rōseäte sunlight quivers: hear I not

1

The Æölian' music of her sea-green plumes

Winnowing the crimson dawn?

II. DAYBREAK.-LONGFELLOW.

A WIND came up out of the sea,

And said, "O mists, make room for me!"
It hailed the ships, and cried, "Sail on,
Ye mariners! the night is gone!"
And hurried landward far away,
Crying, "Awake! it is the day!"
It said unto the forest, "Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!"

1o'li an, pertaining to Eolus, the god of the winds; hence, music produced by wind may be termed Eolian music.