good to feel that life is not wholly usurped by cares for subsistence and physical gratifications, but admits, in measures which may be indefinitely enlarged, sentiments and delights worthy of a higher being. 10. This power of poëtry to refine our views of life and happiness is more and more needed as society advances. It is needed to withstand the encroachments of heartless and artificial manners, which makes civilization so tame and uninʼteresting. It is needed to counteract the tendency of physical science, which—being now sought, not, as formerly, for intellectual gratification, but for multiplying bodily comforts-requires a new development of imagination, taste, and poetry, to preserve men from sinking into an earthly, material, ep'icure'an' life. CHANNING. WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, D. D., an eminent American divine, was born at Newport, R. I., April 7th, 1780. At the age of twelve he was sent to New London, Conn., to prepare for college under his uncle, the Rev. Henry Channing. His father, an able and hospitable lawyer, soon afterward died, to which, in connection with a revival which then swept over New England, he attributed the commencement of his decidedly religious life. He entered the freshman class of Harvard College in 1794, where he graduated with the highest honors. He became pastor of the Federal Street Church, Boston, in 1803. The society rapidly increased under his charge, and his reputation and influence became marked and extensive. He married, in 1814; visited Europe for his health, in 1822; and died at Bennington, Vt., October 2, 1842. He published many admirable addresses and letters. His nephew, William E. Channing, col lected and published six volumes of his writings in 1848. A selection of his writings, entitled "Beauties of Channing," has been published in London; and many of his essays, at various times, have been translated into German. Among the best of his general writings are his "Remarks on the Character and Writings of Milton;” on “Bonaparte;" on "Fenelon ;" and on “Self-Culture.” IV. 178. TO THE POET. HOU, who wouldst wear the name THOU Of poët mid thy brethren of mankind, And clothe in words of flame Thoughts that shall live within the general mind,— The pastime of a drowsy summer day. 1 Ep`i cu rē′ an, pertaining to Epicurus, a celebrated Greek philosopher, whose theory was based upon the opinion that pleasure constitutes the highest human happiness; hence, given to luxury. 2. But gather all thy powers, And wreak them on the verse that thou dost weave, And in thy lonely hours, At silent morning or at wakeful eve, While the warm current tingles through thy veins, 3. No smooth array of phrase, Artfully sought and ordered though it be, Upon his page with languid in'dustry, To touch the heart or fire the blood at will? Let thy lips quiver with the passionate thrill; 5. Then, should thy verse appear Halting and harsh, and all unaptly wrought, Save in the moment of impassioned thought; Of passion find an utterance in thy lay, A blast that whirls the dust Along the howling street and dies away; 7. Seek'st thou, in living lays, To limn the beauty of the earth and sky? Let all that beauty in clear vision lie ; 8. Of tempests wouldst thou sing, Or tell of battles-make thyself a part Of the great tumult; cling To the tossed wreck with terror in thy heart; Scale, with the assaulting höst, the rampart's height, 9. So shalt thou frame a lay That haply may endure from age to age, What witchery hangs upon this poet's page! What art is his the written spells to find That sway from mood to mood the willing mind! BRYANT. SECTION XXXV. H I. 179. THE BELLS. EAR the sledges with the bells— What a world of merriment their melody foretells! 1 In a sort of Runic ' rhyme, To the tintinnabulation' that so musically wells Bells, bells, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Gölden bells! What a world' of happiness their harmony foretells! › Runic (ronik), an epithet applied to the language and letters of the ancient Goths. 2 Tin`tin nǎb`u la' tion, a tink. ling sound, as of a bell or bells. 'World, (wêrld). From the molten-gölden nötes, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats Oh, from out the sounding cells, How it dwells On the Future! how it tells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! 3. Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! How they scream out their affright! They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, By the side of the pale-faced moon. What a tale their terror tells Of despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the air, it fully knows, By the twanging How the danger ebbs and flows; And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells- Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! 4. Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody' compels! How we shiver with affright At the měl'ancholy menace of their tōne! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people-ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone-- And their king it is who tolls; 1 Mŏn' o dy, a species of poem of a mournful character, in which a single mourner is supposed to bewail himself. 'Ghoul (gol), an imaginary evil being among Eastern nations, which was supposed to prey upon human bodies. Pæ'an, among the ancients, a song of rejoicing in honor of Apollo; hence, a loud and joyous song; a song of triumph. |